Skinny Love
by ChloeNaomiTokyo
Summary: After the death of Lily's father, both Connie and Iain begin to worry about Lily's odd behaviour. She's anxious, depressed, quiet and her health is steadily declining. As Lily and Iain's relationship grows, Iain senses she is keeping secrets for him - but as her past begins to resurface, they learn some things should stay buried...
1. Chapter 1

It was a typical October morning. The sun was barely shining; the rays were weak and pale, shining feebly through the curtains. Lily yawned, and stretched. Bed was so lovely, and on a cold, crisp day like this one, it felt like heaven.

Despite her slow start, in thirty minutes Lily was showered and dressed, her eyes neatly lined, and downing a cup of coffee in intermittent sips as she checked her email. One from Mrs Beauchamp, informing all staff that there was a bug going around, and that they would need to be extra vigilant. As per usual, Lily vowed to as much overtime as possible, and tapped a message to the sharp-faced clinical lead to let her know. She decided to skip breakfast – it wasn't like she needed it, she hadn't exercised properly all week.

Now, work.

Stifling another yawn, Lily scooped up the keys to her moped, but as she did she caught sight of the calendar hanging over the sink – October was a pretty forest scene, golden leaves scattered across a winding path. But it wasn't the picture that interested her. Her eyes flicking to the date, she froze.

Her chest tightened, and the little numbers wavered and blurred, mingling with the delicate box round the date. Today! How – _how_ could she have forgotten?

Another onslaught of guilt gripped her as she glanced down the hall and saw the little red light on the answerphone winking at her, harsh in the early morning light. She pressed her hands together, feeling her rings dig into her fingers. Of all the days. The department was under stress, her mother had been sending several worried messages about her father's increasing fragility…

Briefly, she wondered if her mother had remembered what day it was.

At that very moment, her mobile rang. She fumbled through her bag, her fingers brushing biros and forgotten slips and receipts.

' _Lìlì, n_ _ǐ_ _zài ma_?'

'Yes, _Chénmò,_ I am,' Lily replied wearily. Of course her mother had remembered. And now she'd have to spend the next ten minutes wallowing in memories, and probably end up late for work. 'I've got work soon, though, so just a quick chat.' Her anxiety rose in her throat and clogged her airway, making it hard to breathe.

'Oh, _Lìlì,'_ her mother said, the phone crackling with her sigh. 'Jīntiān? Wǒ xīwàng nǐ néng lái... Kàn dào nǐ de fùqīn... Tā zuò dé bù hǎo.'

'He is…okay, isn't he?'

A couple more lines of confusing, fast Chinese.

'Slow down, _Chénmò,_ I can't understand you.'

' _N_ _ǐ_ _y_ _ǐ_ _j_ _ī_ _ng ràng n_ _ǐ_ _de dì y_ _ī_ _y_ _ǔ_ _yán huádòng,'_ her mother said reprovingly. But then her voice grew tearful again. 'Tā xiànzài yīzhí zài kùnhuò. Ér jīntiān... Tā yīzhí wèn qǐ... Qǐyà shì- '

Lily slammed the phone down, breathing heavily. She didn't want to hear her mother's forlorn tones echoing down the line. She didn't want to hear about her father's weakening mental state. And she didn't want to hear… _that_ name. Ever. Never again.

She took a moment to compose herself, her chest heaving beneath her buttoned silk blouse, and hissed angrily when she discovered leaking black tears trailing down her cheeks. To clear herself up would cost her valuable minutes. She was going to be late for work now.

Lily Chao strode into the hospital, her head in a blur. She didn't know what her problem was. Usually she got through this yearly trial by throwing herself into work, concentrating on everything except her feelings. But the phone call this morning had really shaken her. A panicky, anxious knot was lodged in her chest, constricting her windpipe. Perhaps it was because she hated hearing about her father's declining health.

But she suspected it was due to her mother mentioning the name that hadn't been mention in fifteen years.

She was so deep in thought she nearly walked smack-bang into her boss, coming in the other direction.

'Mrs Beauchamp!' Lily gasped, caught off guard.

'Doctor Chao,' Connie replied, lifting an eyebrow, unimpressed. 'You're late.'

'I know, I'm sorry…'Lily stumbled over her words. 'It won't happen again.'

'I should hope not,' Connie said, but her voice was warmer. 'Are you okay, Lily?'

Lily touched her freshly-applied eyeliner, praying the redness from her tears wasn't as obvious as it had been earlier. 'Fine, Mrs Beauchamp,' she replied evenly.

'Good.' Connie turned away. 'Now get to work.'

Three patients later, Lily was feeling pleasantly clear-headed. The knot in her chest had loosened somewhat, and even though she was on her fourth cup of coffee, she felt in control again – at least, until she saw three missed calls from her mother. She let out a heavy, put-upon sigh. Ethan caught it, and glanced over curiously.

'You okay?'

Lily nodded. 'Yes.'

'Patients getting you down?' Ethan smiled awkwardly.

'No, just…tired.' Lily reached for her phone, passing over the sandwich tucked next to it. She couldn't eat. The stress made her stomach feel heavy and cold – anyway, she'd had all that coffee. Enough calories for one morning. Shaking herself free from her thoughts, Lily gazed down at a text from her mother, the knot tightening again.

 _Q_ _ǐ_ _ng g_ _ě_ _i w_ _ǒ_ _d_ _ǎ_ _diànhuà._ Please call me.

As Lily watched, another message came through.

 _W_ _ǒ_ _men x_ _ū_ _yào tán tán. Gu_ _ā_ _nyú Q_ _ǐ_ _yà_ _hé n_ _ǐ_ _de fùq_ _ī_ _n. N_ _ǐ_ _quèdìng n_ _ǐ_ _zhèngzài yìngduì?_

Lily threw her phone into her locker, oblivious to the sound of cracking plastic, and slammed the door with a clang. The knot was swallowing her whole, and she tried to breathe deeply, her vision splintering like a kaleidoscope. Vaguely, she was aware of Ethan's eyes clinging to her back as she fled the room, her head spinning.

Why now? Why did her mother want to talk _now?_

After all these years…

'Could be a broken clavicle or collarbone, I can't be sure without the x-ray,' Lily pleaded. 'I promise it will not damage your daughter in any way.'

'I don't want those machines anywhere near her!' The man was flushed, gripping his daughter's hand. 'I know! They're all radiation and they cause cancer! They're dangerous!'

'Not as dangerous as a broken collarbone left untreated,' Lily countered calmly. Jack Binfield had been very resistive to any kind of treatment, but was now obstructing his daughter's care, which was far more serious. Olivia lay on the bed, scrabbling at the neck brace and whining at her daddy.

Jack rubbed his hands wearily over his face, huffing in exasperation. 'Fine. Fine! But you harm one hair on her head- '

'Your daughter will be fine, Mr Binfield,' Lily said curtly. She felt irritable. She hadn't eaten all day – probably a good thing, as she hadn't gone for a run all week, and felt unpleasantly heavy and bloated. And yesterday, she'd gone for that drink with Iain…alcohol was so fattening…

She was brought sharply back to the present by Jack Binfield's harsh tones. 'Don't take that tone with me! I can complain, you know!'

'Mr Binfield-'

'No!' he thundered, and Lily took a step back, unnerved by his shift in mood. Of all the days to have a difficult patient!

Ethan strode in, having heard the raised voices. He took in the situation – a pale but steady-eyed Lily staring down an angry man who had at least forty kilos on her.

'Excuse me, sir-' Ethan started.

'Tell that fat bitch to look after my daughter!' Jack Binfield exited the cubicle, throwing aside the flimsy paper curtain. Ethan heard his heavy tread fall away.

'Are you okay, Lily?'

Lily was milk-white. The man's words reverberated inside her skull, battering her brain. The knot tightened with a vengenance.

 _Fat bitch…_

 _You fat bitch…_

 _Fat bitch…_

 _Fat…_

 _FAT…_


	2. Chapter 2

**TheBeautifulNerd: Thank you! That means so much to me. I might be a bit slow updating but I promise I'm going to try my best as there might be a couple of cliffhangers in this story! Thanks again for reading and I'm so glad you liked it! Any suggestions for improvements, let me know xx**

 **milali: Thanks, you will find out more about her history later on in the story, and hopefully the title will start to make a bit more sense. I named this after one of my favourite songs by Birdy. Anyway, glad you enjoyed it, thanks again xx**

 **Just to let you know, this chapter could be a difficult read for some people – it was definitely tricky to write.**

Lily went to bed early in an attempt to get things straightened out in her head.

It didn't work.

Instead, she found herself ensnared in a dizzying spiral of anxieties – something she hadn't experienced in over a decade. _Why_ _does_ _Chénmò want to talk to her so badly? Was it her father? Was he dying? How bad is he? Bad enough to think that…_

She shook her head, rearranging her pillows. Fifteen years. Fifteen years of not thinking what had happened, not mentioning it, not acknowledging it – and now, because of one dementia-induced slip, her mother wanted to talk about it.

 _Fifteen years…_

She tried to force her mind away from decades-old memories, Mr Binfield's spiteful, screwed-up face, her mother's tearful, miserable, pleading messages and her father's worsening condition. Instead, she went over the day in her head, running through the diagnosis of her first patient. Had she handled it correctly? Her bedside manner still left a lot to be desired, and cancer – leukaemia, in a child! – was a touchy subject.

She sighed, trying to slow her ragged breathing, trailing a hand through the bedclothes. Attempting to turn her mind to happier things, she thought about Iain's shy, awkward grin, and the goofy little wave he'd given her as he wheeled a patient in on a gurney. She relived the light, airy chat they'd made over drinks a couple of days ago, but – just like that – an iron clamp squeezed her lungs cruelly.

She shot up, struggling to breathe. What had brought on this panic attack? She hadn't had one like this for years! Her heart pummelled in her head, and sweat prickled on her arms and forehead, beading her brow in salty wet.

 _Helphelphelphelp…_

She fumbled for the light, her fingers clumsy with fear as she tried to draw breath.

 _Can't breathe! Ican'tbreathe!_

She found the switch, and as the room was bathed in it's warm yellow light, the clamp round her lungs loosened, and she took deep, trembling breaths. Tears streamed in hot, sticky trails down her cheeks and there was a damp patch staining the front of her nightshirt. But while her breaths slowed, the thoughts still came, fast and hard as bullets, until she thought her skull would burst open.

 _All that alcohol…and I haven't run all week! If father could see me now…that man called me fat! Is that's what everyone's thinking? Is this what I've become?_

Her breath tearing from her chest in gasps, she felt her way to the medicine cabinet. Tugging down a small box of tablets, rattling comfortingly in their flimsy containers, she popped them from the box into her palm, still damp and sweaty from the attack.

'Just one,' she whispered, wiping the clammy residue off her hands on her shirt. _Or two…_

She tipped three into her cupped hands, cradling them gently, like a couple of diamonds. She hadn't swallowed any in years, and for a moment she looked doubtfully at the medicine, wondering if she wanted to go down that route again. Then, as an aftermath shook her, her chest tightening, she tipped the first pill into her mouth.

 _One…_

What if the tablets bloated her? What if her father died?

 _Two…_

 _Never going back there,_ she vowed. But the pills rattled invitingly, white against her skin.

 _Three._

She curled into a foetal ball, shaking, and waited for sleep to come. And as the first tendrils of the drugs caught her mind, in that delicate dream-place that's not-quite-awake and not-quite-asleep, she relived that night, fifteen years ago…

The next morning, Lily could scarcely get out of bed, and, as memories of the night before flooded into her brain, a sharp pain shot through her forehead. Wincing, she rubbed her temple, bleary eyes unfocused.

Glancing across the room, she saw the crumpled box of tablets curled on her bedroom floor. _Oh god!_ She flinched again. She had had a full-blown panic attack, here in her bedroom – brought on simply by recalling the calorific value of alcohol. Sinking back onto the pillows, she probed her aching head for memories.

She'd been worried about her father's deteriorating state for months now – early-onset dementia was no joke. And she'd worried about how her mother was coping – though, somehow, the idea of visiting repulsed her. Her father barely recognised his own reflection anymore, and she didn't think her battered heart could take it.

She supposed, yesterday things had come to a head. Her mother suggesting they talk about fifteen years ago hadn't helped – and Jack Binfield's insults had been the final straw. But today – today would be a good day. No more panic attacks. No more tablets. No more self-hate.

Although her head spun, Lily strode across the room and threw the tablets out the window. She'd left all that behind. She was _never_ going back, and she certainly wasn't going to talk anything over with her mother. She was going to start running regularly again, lose the couple of pounds she'd gained through the lazy living and alcohol. She was going to call her mother – not now, in a couple of weeks – and reassure herself that her father was fine. She was going to move on.

Rolling over, she let out a groan as her headache peaked. She clicked on her phone, screwing her eyes up against the light, and tapped in her password. She had three missed calls, one from her mother and one from Cara.

Lily sat up. Why was Cara trying to call her? Cara was her older sister, but she'd moved to China with her partner a long time ago – about fourteen years now. She'd put the past behind her more effectively than Lily had, and always asked to be called _K_ _ǎ_ _l_ _ā_ now, instead of the English equivalent. But she'd left no clue to why she'd called, so Lily sighed, and phoned back.

'Cara?'

'It's _K_ _ǎ_ _l_ _ā_ to you,' Cara corrected. Her voice was heavy and Lily could sense something was wrong.

'Is everything okay between you and Phil?'

'Oh, yeah, Phil's doing great. I was just calling about…our father.'

Lily stiffened. 'I don't want to talk about him right now, _K_ _ǎ_ _l_ _ā_ _._ '

Cara paused for a moment. 'He keeps talking about her.'

Lily didn't need to ask for clarification to know what Cara meant. Her blood turned to ice.

'I'm coming to visit in a few days,' Cara continued urgently, through Lily's silence. 'And _Chénmò_ told me you haven't visited once, in six months. She called me the other day and said you hadn't been answering any of her calls.' Pause. 'It's been fifteen years, I think we should talk- '

Lily slammed down the phone. Why did her family want to talk about it all of a sudden? Because her father was dying?

Guilt and nausea rose in her throat, sour and sharp. Tasting acidic bile, she put her head in her hands and tried to breathe deeply. No _. No._ Forget all of them.

She dressed robotically. _Don't look back. It's not worth it._ She collected her things, and left the flat, leaving an unopened box of cereal forlorn on the kitchen table.

She yawned as she walked to work, briskly, to beat off the cold. As she entered the lobby of the hospital, she walked straight into Iain, coming the other way.

'Hiya, Chuckles,' he said warmly, eyes sparkling.

'Hello, Iain.'

Iain stepped back, looking dramatically wounded. ' _Hello_? That's all I get? Where's the love, Chuckles?'

A laugh bubbling inside despite her black mood, Lily smiled playfully and shook her head. 'Sparkling Wit,' she said as she slipped past, into the crowded hospital. 'Hey, Lily!' he called after her.

She turned back. 'Yes?'

'Want to come for a drink later? I mean, if you're too busy, that's okay, but…if you wanted to…' His eyes were so hopeful that the little voice reminding her _you're off alcohol,_ _remember?_ was weak and feeble. 'Okay, then,' she said, tentatively, and was rewarded with another grin. The headache and nausea – a result of her pill binge the night before - fell away as she strode into the hospital.

The next few weeks were easier. Lily woke earlier, exercised, and rewarded herself with a diet coke once a week at the bar with Iain. She wasn't quite sure what they had together – something more than friendship, something less than love – but it felt silly and fragile, and it felt good. Just being with him brightened the world around her, and made the shadows in the corners of her mind melt away.

She worked hard, and, after a couple of half-hearted messages from her mother and older sister, they gave up. Soon, she could forget about them entirely. She still felt anxious, and woke trembling from nightmares on a weekly basis, but as she focused on work and her weight, it was easy to ignore her fears during the day.

Not so easy at night though.

But getting on with things was what she was best at, and she excelled at ignoring her problems. At least she did, but one month after the panic attack and the tablets, everything changed.

 **I hope this chapter was okay – I was quite pleased with the first half, though it felt a bit rushed, but the passage of time was difficult to write. Just to clarify,** _ **Chénmò**_ **is an affectionate Chinese term for mother,** _ **Lìlì**_ **is the Chinese equivalent of Lily, and** _ **K**_ _ **ǎ**_ _ **l**_ _ **ā**_ __ **is Chinese for Cara – but unless you speak Chinese, I'm not giving away anymore, as the Chinese contains spoilers. You will get to know a bit more about Lily in the next couple of chapters, but I hope you enjoyed this one. I don't have a beta, so any constructive criticism is welcome!**


	3. Chapter 3

**TheBeautifulNerd: Thanks a lot, I'm going to try to update quickly, but I'm going on holiday soon so no updates for two weeks** **Thanks for all the help you've given me so far, you've been great.**

It started off an ordinary day – a good day, albeit rather nippy. Lily awoke early, slipped into her running gear and went for a jog. The wind was frigid and blew with an icy wrath, but in an effort to blot out the discomfort her uneasy dreams had left her with, Lily lengthened her usual route. Unfortunately, this resulted in her running late for work. When she came back, cheeks glowing and nose stinging from the biting breeze, she had a five-minute-shower, changed and was out of the house in a blur. No breakfast. No coffee, either, as the runs were just as good at waking her up and burned calories.

She and Iain had a fleeting chat before heading into the hospital's stuffy interior, but it was enough to warm her from the inside like a hot drink. She didn't know what it was about Iain, but he made her glow inside.

She was in such a chipper mood she even spared Alicia a smile as her young mentee asked for advice on her portfolio.

But then her mobile rang.

Holding up a manicured hand to silence the young doctor, Lily flipped the phone to her ear without glancing at the caller ID. Her heart shrivelled and the knot in her chest almost snapped, it pulled so tight, when she heard her mother's panicked tones crackling down the line.

'Oh, Lìlì!'

' _Chénmò_? Mother, what is it?'

Her mother spoke in rapid Chinese, taking gasping breaths. 'It's your father. He – he died…this morning _._ ' Her mother let out a hoarse cry that reverberated down the phone, the pain echoing in Lily's ear. She reeled. Her father. Her father had died this morning.

'What?' She switched to Chinese so Alicia, looking at her in innocent bewilderment, couldn't understand. _'N_ _ǐ_ _quèdìng?' Are you sure?_

'There was no warning _._ He just…went to sleep and – and didn't wake up again. _'_

Lily clenched her fists, tensing every muscle in her chest to keep her heart from shattering into shards, like it was made of glass. _At least he died peacefully, in his sleep_ , she reminded herself. _He wasn't in pain._

'Oh, _Chénmò,_ ' Lily said, her voice cracking. She fought to keep her expression neutral, aware of Alicia's curious gaze.

'I know _, Lìlì.'_

Somehow her mother's acceptance soothed Lily, and she found some semblance of calm. But a splinter of guilt lodged in her throat. _She_ should be comforting her mother, not the other way round. Why couldn't she have visited him, when her mother and her sister had asked? When her father was slipping away, she'd been deleting their messages and ignoring their calls. She was already responsible for one death, and her birdlike shoulders could scarcely support the weight of her remorse. Now she felt responsible for another.

' _W_ _ǒ_ _bù zh_ _ī_ _dào g_ _ā_ _i shu_ _ō_ _xi_ _ē_ _shénme.' I don't know what to say._ She didn't know how to make this better.

' _K_ _ǎ_ _l_ _ā_ is coming over to see me, now _._ Will - will you come _?_ Please _, Lìlì.'_ Her mother's voice was desperate, pleading. Lily closed her eyes momentarily, imagining her mother's tortured, begging expression, as her fingers gripped the phone so hard her knuckles went white as the blood leeched from them.

Of course Cara was going to comfort her mother. Cara was the good child. She'd been the rock in their family, been a pillar in the crumbling foundation of Lily's life during her teen years. But Lily herself couldn't go. She couldn't relive the guilt and grief again. She didn't want to see the pain she felt reflected on the faces of those around her.

Not again.

She want to work, to white out the grief. To stay in the hospital meant to be surrounded by people who didn't know about her father. She wouldn't have to think about him. It would be easier to work.

She couldn't explain this to her mother.

' _Bù... M_ _ā_ _m_ _ā_ _,_ I have work _._ You know that.' She struggled to get the words out, but it was a believable excuse. Her mother knew how dedicated she was to her job. But the lie tasted sour in her mouth.

'Can't you…miss work? Just today?' Her mother's accusatory tones sent fresh tears springing to Lily's eyes, and she bit the inside of her cheek in an effort to control herself. Her tongue probed the ragged flesh and she tasted salt and iron. Turning away from Alicia's intrusive expression, she strode towards the staff toilets, desperate for some privacy.

' _Bù, m_ _ā_ _m_ _ā_ _, w_ _ǒ_ _bùnéng.' No, mum. I can't._ She stabbed the 'end call' button abruptly, stopping short. Alicia, still shadowing her, nearly stepped on her foot.

'Are you alright?' she asked tentatively.

'Yes.' Lily's expression was strangely wooden, Alicia thought nervously. 'Fine.'

'You're – you're sure?'

Lily threw her a vicious look, and Alicia flinched back in shock. Her face was twisted with venom, but her eyes were swimming with tears, and a pulse throbbed in her temple. Her jaw was set, her teeth clenched as she beat down the hysteria rising inside. No no _no_ _no NO_ …

Lily's head pounded, her stomach ached, her muscles throbbed as she shook. The guilt pieced the back of her throat and she let out a small, strangled sound. She was going to fall to pieces, here, in front of Alicia's stupid, concerned face…

Lily whipped into the toilets, shutting the door with finality behind her, and let the mask crack.

 **I'm sorry the chapter was so short and rushed. I'm going on holiday for two weeks and decided to write a quick chapter to resolve the cliffhanger, as I couldn't leave you hanging for so long. If you want to translate the Chinese, it doesn't contain any spoilers this time, I just think it's more realistic if Lily talks to her family in her first language. Please review, I love reading your thoughts xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**TheBeautifulNerd: Thanks so much for your review, I've edited the last chapter so it makes easier reading. It's good to have someone to tell me how to improve**

 **This chapter contains a scene that was in the show but I've changed it a bit to fit in with my storyline. Hope it's okay, I'm still struggling to make the words flow right., and it's a bit short. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. If there's anything I can do to improve, please tell me, suggestions are always welcome.**

 **Thanks for reading, you guys are the best.**

The day was over.

Lily placed both hands against the cool metal lockers and breathed out. She studied her crescent-shaped fingernails and clear, delicate skin, the colour of milky coffee. The backs of her hands were flawless, perfect, and you wouldn't guess, looking at them, that her forearms were riddled with scars.

She sighed, and pulled open her locker. It had been quite possibly her worst day ever at Holby. She felt as though she were a china figurine, and would fall apart at the slightest touch. Her throat was thick with repressed tears. Her head was a mess of thoughts and fears.

She knew she definitely hadn't been on top of her game today, and that Connie had picked up on that. She'd been snappy towards Alicia and absent-minded with her patients. She'd had a small panic attack in the toilets and still felt the aftershocks. Her hands were trembling and the knot in her chest was viciously taut again.

She still felt numb with shock. Her father – _dead._ Pressing her hands to the cool metal of the lockers, she tried to hold back the tears swimming in her eyes.

Alicia came in, annoyingly chipper. Lily, composing herself, grudgingly praised her.

'You did well today.'

While Alicia chattered back mindlessly, Lily went back to staring at her nails, trying to keep the hysteria down. Her stomach ached fiercely, and she winced. The temptation for a sugar fix was overwhelming. There was chocolate in the shop. There was money in her pocket.

 _You've been doing so well…_

Gritting her teeth, she beat down the cravings. How could she even think of food when her father was dead and her mother grieving? She still felt pricklings of guilt whenever she thought about him, as well as the all-consuming wave of grief. Perhaps if she'd visited him just once…

You were a terrible daughter, she thought, digging her nails into her palms. Not as good as Cara. Not as good as…

She dug her nails in harder, and when she loosened her hands, she found bloody little crescents marked the tender skin. She noticed the room had gone quiet. Alicia must have left. Then a voice rang out from behind her.

'Right. Lily. You're not leaving today until you tell me what's wrong.'

Lily turned to face Mrs Beauchamp, choking back tears. At the sight of Lily's glistening eyes, Connie's face softened.

'Are you getting anxious again? You can take a few days off if you need it.' Her tone was almost motherly, as though she regretted her harsh greeting. Mrs Beauchamp was the only person at Holby who knew about her ongoing struggles with anxiety, although even she didn't know the full extent of it. She'd told Mrs Beauchamp after crashing her moped from exhaustion. It had been _that_ day, a year ago, and she'd thrown herself into work in an attempt to forget about it.

It hadn't ended well.

Connie had been careful not to overwork her since, but that still didn't mean she was lenient. But Lily knew she could count on her to understand why she worked when she was troubled by something. They were similar in that way.

'No…well, a little.' Lily took a deep breath, and started again. 'Sorry, Mrs Beauchamp, I…haven't been myself today.'

Connie's face remained expectant, and Lily continued steadily. 'My…mother called me this morning and told me my father had died.'

Connie's eyes were wide with shock. She stuttered for a moment, unsure what to say. Lily nodded slowly, the knot in her chest tightening. It felt much more real now she'd said it aloud.

'Oh, Lily, I'm…so sorry.' She was sorry, Lily saw. Her eyes were filled with remorse. But she didn't deserve her pity. It was Lily's own fault. She'd neglected him.

'You shouldn't be here.' Connie could see Lily struggling to control her emotions. 'You can't work properly if you're grieving, especially if you've been feeling anxious again recently.'

Tears were now streaming down Lily's cheeks, sticky and salty. For a moment she felt a pinprick of embarrassment, as she'd always been an ugly crier. What must Mrs Beauchamp think of her?

But Connie moved uncertainly towards her, then enveloped her in a hug. She was warm and the silk of her shirt felt pleasantly cool against Lily's hot cheek. Slowly, she let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding, and they moved away from each other, a little awkward. Neither were good at physical contact.

'Please Lily. Take all the time you need.' Connie's eyes were gentle and compassionate, and Lily found herself nodding. 'Okay,' she whispered.

Connie smiled tentatively. 'Do you want a cup of tea? Or a hot chocolate? There are biscuits here if you want them.'

But even in her befuddled and miserable state, Lily knew that was a bad idea. She needed to exercise, an hour on the treadmills or a run in the park. _That_ would make her feel better. Not a hot beverage full of fatty milk and sugar.

Even though her father was dead, she could still make him proud. She could make up for not being there for him while he was alive, by working harder and becoming the person he'd always wished she was. She could lose weight. She would focus on her weight.

Because in this off-kilter world, it felt like the only thing she could control.


	5. Chapter 5

**Guest: Hope you enjoy the update**

 **casualtyfics111: Thanks a lot, sorry the update's been a long time coming xx**

 **milali: Good, that's what I'd hoped! Let's just say Lily has a lot of secrets in her past x**

Lily lay back and watched the clock ticking.

It had been four days off work and already she was climbing the walls with boredom. With nothing to divert her mind from her memories, she started suffering from awful nightmares which kept her awake and sweating. Self-medicating with sleeping pills only made the dreams more lucid. She'd been cycling through the days, from her bed, to the park, to the gym, to the couch and back up to bed again. She found that exercise was the only thing that muted the dreams and sometimes, climbing into bed, she was so bone-weary that she could scarcely keep her eyes open to squint at her laptop screen. She knew she couldn't return to work too soon without incurring Connie's wrath, but when the grey fog of grief encompassed her, she became so desperate for distraction she started running about three times daily.

At times, she felt delightfully light and free, jogging through the crisp air. Other times, running, whether in the park or the treadmill, was a chore and the hollowness in her belly a reminder of her task.

She'd avoided the scales, dreading their message – still not thin enough, still not good enough. Lying motionless on the couch, feeling empty, her insides aching, she closed her eyes just to forget the preying guilt. She'd drunk an entire smoothie this morning…

Her phone rang.

Sighing, she fumble for the screen, flicking it open. Holding it to her ear, she said blearily, 'Hello?'

'Lily? Um, hi.'

Lily shifted upright, giving a self-conscious cough. 'Oh, hi Iain.'

'Are you okay? I didn't wake you, did I?'

Lily smiled a little, his concern making her feel warm and tingly inside. It was the first proper emotion she'd felt in days, and it was a shock through the fog. 'No, that's okay.'

'How are you doing?'

Lily considered this for a moment. How was she doing? Iain would expect her to feel sad and depressed, probably thought she needed a shoulder to cry on. No doubt Connie had explained to him the reason for her absence. But instead she felt…nothing.

Nothing but guilt.

Of course, the nothingness was occasionally punctured by anxiety, when she'd finished a meal, and panic, when she woke from her nightmares. But mostly she'd been drifting through the days in a dim haze, going through the motions robotically.

There was no way to explain this to Iain over the phone, though, so she went with an easier response. 'I'm fine.'

'You sure?' Iain's voice was hesitant. 'Because, um, if you wanted to eat out with me tonight, I'm free.'

Silence. 'Of course, if you'd rather not, I mean – it might be a bit soon, 'he amended hurriedly, hoping Lily didn't think him too forward.

Really though, she was thinking about the menu. She could hardly force Iain to a low-calorie diet-friendly place for a night out, yet it would be tricky to order something small and healthy without suspicion.

'Maybe…just drinks?'

'Yeah, that sounds good.' He didn't sound disappointed. 'Maybe at that nice little place that just opened round the corner from my flat?'

'Okay, then,' Lily whispered, excited despite herself.

'See you at seven? I get off at six.'

'See you then.' Lily tapped the 'end call' button, and breathed slowly. They'd gone for drinks before, but as friends, with other friends. Never alone together. It was almost like…a date.

What was she going to wear?

Though it felt selfish, just for one evening, Lily made an effort to push all thoughts of her parents out of her mind. She wanted this one night, with Iain, to be free and not tainted with her guilt and self-restraint. Despite her clear head, however, she was a bundle of nerves.

She'd dressed up a little, in a slinky black chiffon top (black was supposed to be slimming) and a pair of high-waisted jeans, praying they didn't make her hips look big. She was inexperienced at dating (was it a date? She couldn't be sure) and really needed Alicia for this kind of thing, but she'd rather bite off her tongue than ask Alicia for help. So she crossed her fingers as she walked into the bar, huffing a huge sigh of relief when she saw Iain wearing a semi-formal shirt.

'You look nice,' he complimented her.

While she couldn't help but think his comment was merely to ply her into a good mood, she smiled. 'You're not so bad yourself.'

He flashed her a grin, and they made their way to a table. It was a cosy little place, perhaps a little behind the times but sweet and warm. He chose a corner table, and she blushed, wondering if he'd noticed that was a personal preference of hers in their previous trips to the pub. 'I'll get drinks,' he said. 'What do you want?'

'Oh – um, a diet coke, please,' Lily said, avoiding Iain's gaze.

He seemed surprised. 'You sure? They do a lovely red here if you want to try it.'

She shook her head.

'Okay,' he said, turning away. 'I'm having a beer, myself.'

As he went up to the barman, Lily chewed her lip anxiously. Iain knew her well, and knew she wasn't one to turn down red wine. While she'd tried to avoid alcohol in the previous weeks, he'd never made a conscious note of what she was drinking, and the change of order had surprised him. What if he realised Lily was trying to lose weight? He'd probably not been aware of the weight gain before, or he wouldn't have asked her out tonight, but if she mentioned it he'd _definitely_ notice, and probably never ask her again.

 _Don't over think things_ , she reminded herself. _Don't stress._

A lump came to her throat as she thought of what her father would have said, before he got ill. _'Over thinking just means you amplify the problem. Sort things out in your head and then it'll be easier to sort them out for real.'_

She battled back tears as Iain arrived with the order. 'One fine sparkling cola, madam,' he said, playing the fancy city waiter. Expelling the tears from her eyes, she giggled and took a sip. The sweet bubbles burst on her tongue and she closed her eyes, enjoying the tickly fizz. It was such a relief to drink something other than water without panicking about the calories!

'Sure you don't want anything to eat?' Iain said, popping a complimentary peanut in his mouth.

'Sure,' Lily replied quietly.

Conversation was halting at first, but the beer relaxed Iain's tongue, and by his second drink he was joking and flirting unashamedly, while Lily watched with a small smile. She could have watched him all day long, and when he casually placed his hand on top of hers, she didn't draw away. Tactfully, Iain stayed well away from the subject of family, talking instead about Dixie's new policy on cleaning the ambulance, and his younger sister, Gem, who was staying with an old friend for a couple of days.

'She worships you, Lil,' he said with a laugh. And while the casual nickname would have gone over anybody else's head, Lily froze. Her blood ran cold. It had been years since anybody had called her by that name.

 _Fifteen years…_

She found herself on her feet, the knot in her chest brutally tight again. It had been relaxed all evening with Iain, but suddenly she was struggling to breathe, and stood unsteadily, swaying. Her head was spinning…

'Lily, you okay?' Iain was on his feet, holding her arm.

'Yes, I –' Lily looked around for escape, hysteria rising as the walls closed in on their cramped corner table. 'I need to go. Thanks Iain, it's been a great evening,' she gabbled, and then weaved her way towards the door, taking deep, cleansing breaths of the cool night air.

Iain watched her go.


	6. Chapter 6

**Guest: Thanks! Sadly things are going to get worse for Lily before they get better**

 **casualtyfics111: Yes I feel bad putting her in such awful situations! Iain's going to be a big help to her in this story because I love their relationship xx**

 **Just a little filler chapter – drama coming soon xx**

Lily barely made it out of the pub before tears started streaming down her cheeks. She'd blown everything – everything! Iain was going to think she was such an idiot. He would never fancy a panicky mess who stormed out halfway through their evening together. He would never love her if she-

She stopped, drawing in a sharp breath. Who said anything about love? Her and Iain definitely weren't anything close to that yet, and probably never would be. He was good-looking, charismatic, funny and brave. She knew several of the nurses were mad for him. He got on with everyone. Whereas she…

She was nicknamed the Ice Princess by some of her colleagues, for her haughty, cold manner. She was fully aware she wasn't deemed likeable by many. And nobody would consider her attractive, especially with those few extra pounds still hanging on.

More tears of self-pity slipped from her eyes, and when she reached up a hand to wipe them away, her fingers came away black. She unlocked the door to her flat in a daze, and collapsed onto her bed, fully dressed.

Iain opened the door to the living room to find Gem, curled on the couch, eyes on the telly which was showing an old episode of _Not Going Out._

' _Not Going out?'_ Iain said, raising an eyebrow.

'Nothing else on,' Gem replied with a shrug. 'Tiff's boyfriend came over so I left early. How'd it go with Tiger Lily?'

Iain sat down on the couch with a sigh, resisting the urge to go and grab another beer from the kitchen. Gem was still watching him. 'Come on,' she said. 'Spill. Did it not go well or something?'

'Um-'Iain stared unseeingly at the telly for a moment. 'It started off okay. She was a bit quiet but it was – I don't know, it was good to have a chat, you know? She's been acting a bit odd for a while but I thought we were really getting somewhere.' He nicked a bit of Gem's popcorn and she swatted his hand away.

'So what happened?' Gem was completely ignoring the telly now.

'She just left. Halfway through. I didn't say anything – she just got up and left.' He replayed it in his mind.

'Maybe she was just a bit emotional,' Gem said, munching popcorn. 'After her dad and everything.'

'Yeah,' Iain said. 'Maybe.'

Lily strode through resus, and once she got to Mrs Beauchamp's office she took a deep breath, composing herself. She'd emailed Connie the night before, two days after her and Iain's disasterous evening. She couldn't sit on the couch anymore – she thought she'd go insane if she didn't get back to work. Though she felt slightly dizzy and headachy, she'd attributed her loss of energy to grief and lethargy. Yesterday she'd only been able to muster up the resolve to run once, and had skipped both lunch and dinner to compensate. Unfortunately, she now felt bitingly hollow inside, and it taken a lot of willpower to avoid raiding her cupboards for every bit of sugar she owned. Was she really that addicted to sweet things?

She rapped the door sharply. 'Come in,' Connie called out.

Lily entered, feeling self-concious as Connie looked her up and down. The other day Lily had gone through her closet and discarded half her clothes. She'd ended up in a pair of black trousers which were loose round the waist and an overlarge shirt which, she hoped didn't cling to her hips and stomach.

'Doctor Chao!' Connie eyed her carefully. 'How are you?'

'I'm fine, Mrs Beauchamp. I really just want to work, to be honest.' She tried smiling. Her jaw muscles ached.

'Good.' Connie was struggling for words. 'If you have any problems then come and see me, okay? If you're feeling distracted or you need a moment – I'll put you on cubicles for a few days, to make it easier - if that's alright?'

Lily nodded.

'Do you need any time off for the funeral?' Connie asked.

'Um – no, I mean – I'm not going,' Lily said awkwardly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 'I don't want to miss any more work than necessary.' Her stomach twisted at the lie. The truth was, going to this one would just make her think of the last funeral she'd gone to, and she didn't need to be reminded about that.

'Are you sure?' Connie seemed surprised.

'Yes, I am,' Lily said shortly. 'Now if you'd excuse me, I'll go and get started.'

'Okay, Lily,' Connie replied. Lily turned to go.

'Come and talk to me if you need anything, Lily, will you? I'm always here if you want to.'

Connie listened as the door clicked shut behind Lily, then returned to her work. Or tried to. Something about Lily's manner was preying on her mind. She'd seemed slightly out of sorts, run down, a bit tired. She'd dressed differently – plainly - like she hadn't really made and effort – or like she was trying to look unobtrusive. And her eyes had looked empty and dull. She just seemed – tired.

Connie resolved to keep an eye on her. She cared for the young doctor far more than she'd let anyone know, and Lily's behaviour had been worrying her lately. She'd seemed a bit subdued, and had been stressing unnecessarily. There had been an interaction with a patient a month or two ago that had really shaken her. She'd been distracted for days after that. Connie fretted Lily's anxiety was making a resurgence.

There was another knock on her door. She looked up wearily as Charlie entered.

'There's a major RTC coming in a couple of minutes. A gas explosion,' he said by way of greeting.

'Oh, um – 'Connie massaged her temples. 'Okay, I'll deal with it. Charlie, would you keep an eye on Lily for me? I don't think she should be back at work so early.'

Charlie looked at her curiously, but nodded. 'I can do that.'

'Right, then,' Connie said, sweeping out of the room. As she strode through the reception she spotted Lily speaking to a couple of the nurses next to cubicles. Her manner was businesslike, but her shoulders were curled forward and every movement seemed to be an effort, like she had no energy at all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Giatrix: Thanks a lot! Hope you enjoy the next chapters xx**

 **milali: There's a bit of drama in this chapter but big drama comes later. Hope you like it**

 **TheBeautifulNerd: Your support means so much to me, do you think I should include Gem in this story more? Not sure xx**

 **I've been a bit stuck for ideas so sorry for the slow update. I really like reading your reviews and if you spot any mistakes or improvements, I'm happy to hear them**

Lily felt odd.

She'd felt a little funny all day, since her run. Her fingers felt fuzzy, like they were going to sleep; she struggled to focus on the notes in front of her, her vision blurry, and her balance was off. She wondered if she was coming down with something – her stomach was aching fiercely, though that was partially hunger.

She hadn't eaten since yesterday, when she struggled through a plate of wilted salad. She'd picked out the tomatoes and obsessively checked the calorific value, once, twice, three times. She'd ended up leaving half of it, sickened by the little percentage.

Now, as the room swooped round her, painfully loud, she wondered if that had been a mistake. She knew it wasn't good for her to feel this hungry, or this dizzy; but it wasn't good for her to be overweight either, and her every time she changed for bed she cowered away from her reflection, wincing as she recalled the sugary smoothie she'd consumed last week. She could almost feel the salad beneath her skin, bloating her.

Her colleagues had been watching her cautiously all day, no doubt informed about her father. It had been eight days back at work and they were still treating her like blown glass, refusing to let her take the trickier patients. She was sick of sprains and superficial wounds. She wanted a challenge, something to take her mind off the throbbing guilt about her father, and the lingering grief.

While the shock of his death had passed, the numbness lingered, as did the guilt. At night before bed she tortured herself with questions – stupid, futile questions. Why hadn't she visited him? Comforted him? She hadn't seen him for six months before he died.

She was so deep in thought she almost bumped into Jacob, heading the other way. Stumbling, she fought to maintain her balance.

'Sorry-' Jacob said quickly, putting out a hand to steady her. 'Lily? Lily, are you okay?'

In truth, Lily wasn't. She felt woozy. The room was swooping round her and she stared fixedly at Jacob, who was saying something, but he sank in and out of focus. Sounds echoed. The fuzzy feeling in her fingers intensified.

'Lily!'

Jacob caught her by the shoulders as she hit the ground, but her head hit the wall with a crack. Ethan and Cal hurried over.

'It's okay, she just fainted,' Jacob said. 'She's coming round.'

Lily's eyes fluttered open, and she pushed herself upright, staring round dizzily.

'Lily? You okay?' Ethan's concerned face swam into view.

'Yes, I am,' Lily said, swaying as she stood.

'Maybe – maybe you should sit down,' Ethan said tentatively.

'I'm alright,' Lily said sharply. She couldn't stand the fuss. 'Really.'

She tried to walk, though her legs felt wobbly and weak.

'Doctor Chao?'

 _Great._ Lily turned to face Mrs Beauchamp, straightening her shirt and brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. Her hand touched something warm. Wet. Her fingers came away red.

'You're bleeding, Lily,' Ethan said, coming to stand behind her. He sifted her hair away from the small cut to the side of her head. 'That might need a stitch.'

Connie raised an eyebrow. 'Care to tell me what happened?'

'She fainted – just for a moment,' Ethan jumped in before Lily could protest.

Lily was fuming. If Connie insisted she take more time off work – more time with nothing to distract her from her thoughts - she'd go stir crazy. It was far to much of a fuss to make about a few seconds dizziness. It was probably just a culmination of tiredness, her body adjusting to her strict diet, and grief. Right?

Lily bit her lip anxiously, feeling the knot tighten as she surveyed Connie's stiff expression. 'Thank you, Ethan,' she said. 'I'll deal with Lily. Come on,' she said, taking her arm and leading her towards a cubical. She threw aside the flimsy paper curtain and sat Lily on the bed, firm but gentle. Lily didn't protest.

Connie took a careful look at the cut just above her ear. 'What happened here?'

'I…hit it on the wall, I guess,' Lily muttered.

'As you fainted.'

'Yes.'

Connie went on inspecting her cut, and there was a few moments blissful silence. Lily waited, poised for an argument.

'You know, Lily, if you need a few more days-'

'No.' Lily went to shake her head, but Connie had hold of her hair, inky-dark against her purple gloves. Realising she'd interrupted Connie, she amended. 'No, thank you. I know you mean well, but I'm fine. I want to work.'

'Okay, Lily,' Connie said softly. 'I know you want to work. But you need to make sure you're looking after your body too. Make allowances. All sorts of things go haywire when you're grieving, and you have to slow down a bit. Have you been getting enough sleep? Eating enough?'

'I - yes,' Lily said quickly. It was her natural, instinctive response. She needed to work. It's what her father would have wanted. But she couldn't help but wonder if there was some truth in Connie's words.

'I've been sleeping badly recently, I suppose,' Lily said quietly, studying her nails. She wondered whether to mention the nightmares that still preyed on her subconscious, so she was constantly on edge, constantly anxious. They were filled with guilt and memories, things from years ago she didn't think about in the cold light of day. She wondered whether to mention the dieting, how whatever she did – it had been months now – she still felt heavy and ugly, yet oddly insubstantial, like she could blow away in one breath.

But this was two much to put into words, especially as she was rubbish at expressing herself. Instead she said simply, 'but that's it. I can handle it, Mrs Beauchamp, honestly.'

'Call me Connie,' Mrs Beauchamp said absent-mindedley. Lily would have looked at her in surprise was her head not being held still by Connie's gentle fingers. When she spoke, her voice was different, less harsh.

'I know things can't be easy, Lily, but I need you to come to me if you think your anxiety is making a resurgence.' She turned Lily's gaze to hers. 'Remember what happened last time, when you crashed? I will not have that happen again.'

 _Remember what happened last time._ The words rang oddly in her head.

 _A fifteen-year old Lily sat staring mutinously across the mahogany desk. Sitting behind it, the psychologist tapped his fingers against the polished wood._

' _I want you to think about what you're saying, Lily. What you're feeling. Do you want to feel like this again? Do you want to get better?'_

 _Questions again. Lily sighed. Her head pounded, yet she barely had the energy lift her hand to it. Slowly, she massaged her temples, blocking out the thoughts that crammed themselves in, screaming for attention._

' _I want to get better. Obviously. I want the thoughts to stop. I want to feel happy. But how can I move on when every day, every minute, I replay what happened?' She glared at him defiantly. The tables had been turned. She was asking the questions now._

 _Yet his voice remained mild. 'Of course you're still going to think about what happened. You need to give it time- '_

' _It's been a year!' Lily snapped. 'A whole goddamn year, and I remember it like yesterday!'_

 _There was a moment of silence, only interrupted by the ticking clock._

' _How are things going in terms of food? Still counting calories?' The change of subject was clearly to diffuse the tension, but Lily allowed it. God, there was enough tension in the house these days._

' _Not yesterday. I had a chicken sandwich for lunch.' Lily waited a moment, eyebrows raised insolently. 'Well? Aren't you going to applaud me?'_

' _Lily-'_

' _Give me a medal, why don't you? Everyone praises me when I eat, when I go outside, when I make it through the day, but it won't change what happened, will it? Even if I get better, it won't change what happened!'_

 _Silence. 'I think,' the psychologist began carefully. 'You're scared. You are scared to get better; you are scared to forget about what happened, because you don't want to forget her. You still feel guilty, don't you? You are scared of letting go.'_

 _Lily sank back, putting her gaunt face in her hands. 'Maybe I am. Maybe I'm scared to let go.'_

Lily awoke sharply, shaking, tears streaming down her cheeks. It was another nightmare, a new one. She shook inside her baggy t-shirt, her muscles convulsing in harsh tremors as she scrubbed her hand across her cheeks. She fingered the stitches puckering her temple. As her breathing slowed to a rasp, she closed her eyes, the words of her fifteen-year-old self still echoing in her head.

 **I have no idea how this chapter is going to go down. I hope it isn't too confusing, and if it is please don't hesitate to tell me! I tried to get across that Lily is feeling anxious about her body and guilty about her father's death, but I hope the dream isn't too much, I'm trying not to rush. By the way, if you like this story, try TheBeautifulNerd's she's an amazing writer and her stories are based on mental health too if you like that kind of thing** **Thanks for reading, it means so much and I'd love it if you would review xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**TheBeautifulNerd: Thanks, thinking about it I reckon I'll include Gem more. I love her character and she'll add another dimension to the story, thanks for the advice xx**

 **This chapter was inspired by TheBeautifulNerd, I was a bit stuck for ideas. Thanks readers, you're all amazing**

As she'd known she would, Connie had insisted Lily take a day of work to rest, and she'd said it with such a steely glare that Lily hadn't dared argue. So now she lay staring out of the window, watching planes tracing fluffy trails across the chill December sky and picking at a tub of pasta. She felt conflicted. On one hand, she knew it was necessary to eat. She _must_ eat. She couldn't faint again. She knew that it was not normal to eat one meal a day, to have to choke down a plain salad. She knew it wasn't normal to exercise twice, three times a day. But she couldn't help it.

The truth was, though she was perfectly aware of the dangers of eating too little, she knew there was no other way to lose weight. She had to.

She stared unseeingly into the tub of salad. She felt so angry with herself – so, indescribably angry, all the time. For eating, when she knew it made her put on weight. For ignoring her mother's pleas and her father's worsening condition. For fainting at work.

 _Stupid._ She sighed, and looked down at the salad. Her eyes drifted to the unused knife beside the tub. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Deep in thought, she found herself absent-mindedly fingering the knife. She was stuck in a house of mirrors – one way, she couldn't lose weight if she ate, the other – well, Connie would be on the warpath if she so much as glimpsed how hard Lily was working her body, over-taxing it during the day, and waking up in a cold sweat during the night.

She was clutching the knife, she realised. Not by the handle – by the blade. She loosened her grip a little, yet the anger still seeped through her like poison. Everyone was going to think she was an idiot, she snarled at herself. _That I can't look after myself. Or concentrate at work. They've probably already noticed the extra weight. How did I not notice for so long?_

She realised dimly that she was pressing her nails to the table, the blade digging painfully into her palm. She pushed harder. The dull pain helped control the simmering rage roiling inside her.

She felt as though she was thinking through a fog as she picked up the knife and pressed it to her wrist. Her offbeat mind derived an odd kind of harsh pleasure from the pain. _To be fair_ , she thought. _You deserve it._

She moved it across her arm, hissing at the pain. _You're fat._

Blood began beading from the severed skin. _Ugly._

She could feel the serrated edge, stinging sharply. _It's all your fault._

Slowly, the knife slipped from her grasp, and a hot, salty tear trickled down her cheek. It was only a small cut, but it stung like hell. 'Shit,' she whispered. Her voice cracked. 'What have I done?'

She'd never sunk this low, not in fifteen years. As she sat, gazing glassily at her wrist, she felt as though she'd sunk into a unrealistic, dreamlike world. As though she'd sunk into one of her nightmares.

'Hey, Lily,' Iain greeted her the next morning. 'You alright now?'

Lily nibbled her lip. She didn't like to lie to Iain – it was yet another thing to feel guilty about – but if she admitted to him that she'd been in such a dark place that yesterday she had – she'd-

She still couldn't quite believe she done it. The cut had scabbed over, but every time she glanced at her forearm it stood out lividly, a new scar amongst the old. She'd selected a long-sleeved shirt this morning, made of fresh cream linen, to cover her wrists. She felt absurdly guilty – like it was eating her alive.

'Lily?'

Jerking to attention, Lily realised Iain had been asking her a question. 'Sorry, what?' she said, cringing.

'Do you want to go for a drink tomorrow?' Iain repeated.

'Oh – um, sure,' Lily said distractedly. She caught herself and added politely, 'that would be lovely, thank you.' She tried to smile, but it was difficult to force her mouth to move. She had a horrible feeling it looked like she was grimacing.

But Iain smiled straight back, and there was something in his expression – faint amusement, affection. It made her glow inside. 'I'm sorry,' she said softly. 'I'm just a bit – distracted.'

'Oh, of course,' Iain said. 'I mean, we can do it another time if you want.'

'Oh, what – no, tomorrow's fine.' Lily's smile was less of a struggle this time. 'Great, actually.'

As she headed off, she wondered, incredulous, why Iain, who had the pick of any girl at Holby, would choose her. Not the prettiest, the most attractive, nor – she had to admit it – the most pleasant. She walked of in a happy, bemused daze.

She didn't care why he liked her. But she liked that he did.

'Lily?'

Lily turned. 'Hello…Connie,' she replied evenly.

'You're back at work, I see,' Connie said. 'Can I take a quick look at your head, check it's healing okay?'

She lead Lily over to a unused cubicle and took a quick look at the stitches. 'I reckon they're ready to snip,' she said, inspecting them closely.

'Already?' Lily said nervously. She didn't mind snipping stitches on others, but the idea of having it done to herself was sickening. She'd never been a good patient.

'It was only a small cut – probably didn't even merit a stitch and it's healing nicely,' Connie said. 'Why, you scared?' She raised an eyebrow, looking at Lily challengingly.

'Of course not,' Lily lied swiftly, finding she could smile quite easily around Connie.

'It'll be quick,' Connie promised. 'Come on, sweetheart.'

The term of endearment surprised Lily, but she hid it well. Connie kept up a steady stream of talk throughout the procedure. 'I'm not too good a patient myself,' she said conversationally. 'And I've seen them all, good patients, bad patients, angry patients – you name it, I've seen it.'

Lily gave a small, flat laugh. She didn't seem to have the same level of emotion as before her father died. Every feeling was dimmed by grief, like dust over a bright picture. She lifted a hand to brush away a strand of hair as Connie gently wiped the cut on her temple.

'What's that on your hand?' Connie asked suddenly, and Lily jumped.

'Just a – papercut,' she lied inexpertly as Connie caught her hand and inspected the slice on her wrist. She took a second, just staring at the severed skin, and Lily tugged her hand away, flushing.

'Wow, nasty,' Connie said casually, nothing more said.

'Iain, can I have a word?'

Iain looked up to see Mrs Beauchamp striding towards him, heels clacking on the hospital floor. She had a thin-lipped, no-nonsense expression pinned to her face, and Iain couldn't help but feel intimidated. He glanced at Jez, who shrugged.

'Sure, Mrs Beauchamp,' he said meekly, following her into her office.

She shut the door with a snap. 'I just wanted to talk to you about Lily.'

Iain had suspected that that was it. 'You did?'

Connie lifted an eyebrow. 'You haven't noticed anything – odd – in her behaviour?'

Iain considered. 'She's been…quiet, I guess. She walked out when we were drinking together. But – surely she's just grieving?'

He caught Connie's expression. 'Has something happened? Other than the fainting, I mean?'

'I – no, nothing's happened,' Connie said inattentively. 'Sorry. I won't keep you from your work any longer.' She opened the door and directed him out.

To be fair, she had no evidence. But Lily's behaviour had been disturbing lately. She'd been tired, quiet, a little distressed maybe, and Connie couldn't help but notice she was rapidly losing weight. Not a whole lot – but enough to make her face gaunt and her movements slow. She, as a doctor, was good at spotting this kind of thing.

Like the cut. That was no papercut. Of course, she had no reason to believe it was self-inflicted, but it was too large to be a papercut, yet to clean to be just a scratch.

But that raised the awkward question. Why would Lily lie?

And as Connie went through the day, the question prowled round her mind.

Why would Lily lie?

 **Thank you so much to TheBeautifulNerd, I'd completely run dry on ideas. I hope this chapter wasn't too hard-hitting for anyone. xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**TheBeautifulNerd: Thanks! There will be a lot of Lily/Connie throughout this story, as those two have a really lovely friendship I love to write about xx**

 **milali: Thank you – Lilian is my favourite couple and I love to write about them, and Connie as well. More to come xx**

 **Guest: Thanks, enjoy the update**

 **So this is a quick, happy chapter to lighten the mood – big drama next!**

'So Lily…about drinks.'

'Mm?' Lily looked up and her solemn face broke into a smile. Iain savoured the sight, as it was so rare these days. He noted the way her eyes scrunched up and her little nose wrinkled, though her eyes were still dull and sad. He loved her smile, however little he got to see it these days.

'I was thinking…well, there's a little restaurant just opened across from the park we could go to instead?' Iain said tentatively. 'Just us. It'd be nice to have an evening away from work, we could grab a meal…I'd pay.' He gave a non-committal shrug, not wanting to seem desperate.

'Oh…um…' Lily smile had faded. Something flickered in her eyes as she took a sharp breath. 'Okay then. Why not?' Her feet shuffled awkwardly, her patent heels kicking up dust from the tarmac. An ambulance wailed past. 'That would be lovely, thank you.'

'You're sure?' Iain had seen the uncertainty on her face. He didn't want to coerce her into anything, but if she didn't feel the same way…

That same, sad-eyed smile. She twisted her hands anxiously, scratching a collection of partially-healed cuts. 'Of course, Iain. I'll see you at six after work.'

'I'll pick you up from your place,' Iain said quickly. He watched her stride off. Something had changed about her demeanour these past few weeks – her shoulders seemed birdlike beneath her heavy coat, and her limbs looked delicate and breakable. She no longer walked with that confidence some had labelled arrogant. That confidence Iain had fallen in love with.

It had been Gem's idea, the meal. She'd got a new job, in the corner shop at the end of the street, working with a middle-aged lady called Shirley who kept Gem in line. Despite this, she still popped into the hospital to see Lily from time to time and to have the odd spelling lesson. The last time she'd visited, she'd spent the whole time darting Iain knowing glances as he chatted with Lily. As they'd left the car park she'd given him a load of cocksure advice.

'You need to go for it, Iain! It's obvious you're mad for her, and she's mad for you, so what's the point of sticking around?' She had said. 'Go on. I dare you. Take her to that new place Shirley's always banging on about. See if anything's going to happen, and if it's not then no harm done.'

But it wouldn't be 'no harm done' if Lily didn't like Iain the same way. Iain couldn't even conceive the idea. Lily meant a lot to him – too much. He liked the way she laughed, and smiled, and the way her mouth tightened when she was frustrated, and her eyes half-shut when she was thinking…and if that was taken away, he'd feel empty.

Oh, he'd get over it. But no one, not even Rita, had made Iain feel so unsure. And now, this unpredictable, grieving Lily made him feel like he was balancing on the edge of a cliff. He only needed the courage to leap.

Lily strode home in a hysterical rage.

Not at Iain. At herself.

 _A meal_. She'd let Iain invite her out to a _meal!_ She could hardly get away with a glass of diet coke and a tub of pasta salad in a restaurant, with Iain sitting across from her, could she? She would have to call him back, tell him she couldn't make it. That she was sick or something.

But even in this dizzying rage, she felt repulsed by the idea. She couldn't say why she'd agreed to go out with Iain, only that he'd looked so hopeful that she couldn't bring herself to let him down. It was stupid to imagine this could go anywhere, what they had, but maybe one day…if she lost enough weight. Just a bit around her hips and stomach and thighs, enough to make herself fanciable. Maybe then he'd feel a fraction of the attraction she felt for him.

Lily bit her lip. She'd been working so hard these last few days, desperate to make up for the disasterous evening they'd spent together. If he ever felt anything for her…if this ever got anywhere…she wanted to be a girlfriend to be proud of. Not some overweight wreck who passed out at work and woke sweating from nightmares, fumbling for the lamp. Not some freak who felt the need to damage their body to loosen the knot in their chest.

It had become a habit, the cutting. At first it had been small, scratching at half-healed scabs so they'd scar and bleed, but then it had escalated. Soon, the knot in her chest was so fiercely tight, all the time, that the slightest mistake, a mention of her family or weight or dementia would send her nails digging into her forearms or her fingers scrabbling for a knife.

That wasn't right. It wasn't _normal._ But she couldn't stop.

'You look nice,' Iain said shyly.

Lily gave him a derisive look. 'Really?'

'Really,' Iain said, surprised at her disbelief. 'Are you ready to go?'

They set off through the streets, heading for Iain's road. Iain kept up a determined flow of conversation, with Lily laughing cautiously and making intermittent comments when needed. Iain kept shooting her glances out of the corner of his eye, and they were making her edgy. Was it the dress? Did it make her hips look big? It was an old, loose thing, but now she worried it made her look shapeless.

'Gem's really met her match in Shirley, I reckon,' Iain said, tilting his head back and looking at the stars. It was just six, but already the sky sparkled, as though with little sequins. Lily watched them twinkle in Iain's eyes and tried to summon a feeling of contentment.

'And this is it!' Iain said, steering her towards a pretty, glowing restaurant. Warmth and light chatter was spilling out of the open doors, accompanied by the scent of hot food. Lily's stomach turned over.

'Come on in.' Iain directed her inside, to a booth in the corner, and Lily followed reluctantly.

 _This is hell_ , she thought. _Now what am I going to do?_

She kept up conversation, though her thoughts were snagged on little strings of panic worming through her brain. Iain watched her closely, disturbed by her stiff, monosyllabic answers.

The waiter arrived, passing out menus.

Lily stared at hers in blind panic. _Pizza, pasta, fine wines…Shit._ Frantic, she scanned the menu for anything healthy. Distantly, she heard Iain making conversation, but her mind was going insane, thoughts bashing the inside of her skull.

 _Don't you dare…don't even think about it!_

It felt as though somebody was screaming inside her head. She blinked. 'Sorry Iain, did you say something?'

'Are you ready to order?' Iain repeated. Beside him, a waiter looked expectant.

'Can I have...' her eyes flew across the menu. 'Just a salad please. I…I'm not very hungry.' She felt her cheeks burn. 'Sorry,' she said quietly to her lap.

She struggled to resume conversation with Iain after, and when her salad arrived it became close to impossible. She pushed the wilted green leaves around the plate with her fork, trying to appear attentive.

Iain watched her. He'd been watching her all night.

For the first time, he wondered if Lily had been dieting. Her cheekbones surely hadn't been that prominent a few months ago, and she'd been dressing differently too – her clothes baggier, less fitted. It confused him. He struggled to comprehend how somebody as beautiful as Lily could think herself out of shape, but he knew Lily put pressure on herself to be perfect.

Maybe she felt self-conscious. His remark about her looking nice earlier on now seemed weak, feeble – ineffective. He watched Lily toy with a forkful of salad then, on a whim, reached out and took her hand.

'You look lovely tonight, Lily.' His eyes caught hers and he saw the uncertainty darkening them. It made him wonder how he had missed it before.

Lily gave a small, timid smile. Gently, she eased her fingers through his and for a second they both gazed at their clasped hands, fingers interlocked.

'Are you finished? Can I get you dessert?'

Iain glanced up at the waiter as though he had forgotten what one was. When he saw Lily vigorously shake her head, he declined. For tonight, he'd make it easy for her. But from now on, he was going to make her see how beautiful she was.

As they headed back to Iain's flat, Lily could have sung, or laughed, or cried. Their hands never parted, even as they strolled through the cool night air. Iain's hand stayed in hers, firm, steady, dependable.

She could still feel the salad sitting at the bottom of her stomach, but the joy quenched the anxiety. She felt exhilarated, and as they crossed the street, Lily laid her head on Iain's shoulder, feeling his muscles tighten and release through his shirt as he swung their clasped hands.

He'd told her she looked lovely. _Lovely._ Even though a part of her was still sceptical, not even that dark corner could dim those words. Maybe he truly didn't care about the extra few pounds. Maybe he liked her just the way she was.

They ascended the stairs to his flat, finding it dark and empty. 'Gem's probably asleep,' Iain said in a low voice as they made their way to the couch, a sagging corduroy thing squashy with bright cushions. Curling up on it together, Lily wondered at how perfectly their bodies fitted together, like a Ying and Yang. In a dreamy haze she thought about the old necklace she'd had as a child. She'd had one half of the Ying and Yang. She had no idea what had happened to the other half.

Even thinking about her childhood couldn't dampen Lily's spirits as Iain slipped back into place next to her, a beer in hand. They stayed like that well into the night, chatting in low voices, talking about anything, everything. In the warm, and the dark, Lily and Iain were barely a breath apart – and then, in a moment, they weren't even a breath apart any more.

 **I hope you liked that chapter – I certainly enjoyed writing it. Thanks for reading and reviewing, it means the world to me xx**


	10. Chapter 10

**TheBeautifulNerd: Thanks so much, Iain is going to be a great help to Lily in this story xx**

 **milali: I don't mind you repeating it, it means so much to me each time! Thanks, I was unsure how the chapter would be received so I'm so glad you liked it**

 **Giatrix: I always worry I add too much detail so my writing is boring, so to know you don't think so means a lot. I wasn't sure how this chapter would go down, so to know you thought it was my best yet was amazing! Yes, I think often when somebody is ill it's important to show how that affects the people around them. More to come**

 **A bit of drama in this chapter. Thanks so much for the reviews, they mean ever so much to me and I would love a few more** **Hope you like it, I thought it was a bit rushed xx**

Iain whistled as he swung into the kitchen.

Gemma stared up at him, looking slightly unnerved. She had filled a bowl of cornflakes to the brim and had her nose buried in a gossip magazine as she idly spooned them into her mouth. Iain didn't pause in his whistling, flicking the kettle on and reaching for a mug.

'What got you so happy?'

Iain grinned enigmatically and ruffled Gem's hair, a childish habit he'd never grown out of. She scowled, smoothing her ponytail back into place. But she couldn't stay mutinous for long.

'Was it Lily? What happened last night?' The gossip magazine lay forgotten in light of this new drama.

'A nice meal with a friend,' Iain said nonchalantly. Gem deflated.

'Nothing else?'

Iain smiled dreamily, thinking of yesterday. They'd sat up for hours, talking themselves into oblivion, talking and talking with kissing in between. That first hot, alcohol-infused kiss had left Iain hungry for more, and their faces were barely more than an inch apart for the rest of the evening. At one, Lily had left in a sleepy daze, both wishing they didn't have to get up early for work tomorrow. Iain had spent the night on the couch, reliving that first kiss until he drifted into unconsciousness.

He gave Gem the sketchy details.

'No way!' Gem's mouth hung open, straw dangling out. 'You kissed her?'

'Yep,' Iain said, darting across the kitchen and humming a chipper tune as he poured out his coffee. 'We really did. I still can't believe it.'

'Hold it, Romeo,' Gem cut in.

'Some of Lily's English lessons must've stuck, yeah?' Iain said, smirking.

Gem put a hand on her hip. 'Are you sure you two weren't just drunk?'

'No!' Iain felt quite defensive. 'Lily didn't drink a thing. Anyway, why would it count less if we'd been drunk?'

'It does,' Gem said. She frowned. 'Lily didn't drink anything? Why?'

Iain's bubble burst. 'I reckon she might be dieting. She's been a bit funny with what she eats lately – she ordered a salad yesterday and only ate half of it.'

Gem's eyes narrowed, like they did when she was counting out change. 'Maybe she's feeling a bit self-conscious, like she needs to change herself for you to like her,' she said wisely, flipping her magazine shut. 'I'll come in to the hospital with you today. It's been a while since I had a lesson with Lily anyway.'

'You mean you want the low-down on how she feels about me,' Iain said shrewdly, grinning. 'Okay then. Grab your coat.'

Lily almost skipped into work that morning.

It had been a good day so far – she'd woken early to lengthen her run (the salad still preying on her mind) but she hadn't cut at all. Hadn't even been tempted to. She'd chosen an upbeat song to listen to on her earbuds on her way to work – something to reflect her mood – but she'd barely heard the song as she daydreamed about their kiss.

She'd imagined it in the shower, on her run, packing her things, walking to work. She was still lost in her memories as she strode into the hospital, heels clacking on the polished floor.

'Hiya, Tiger Lily!'

Lily blinked, and found Gem in front of her.

'Hello, Gemma.'

'It's Gem,' the teen said with the old tenacity. 'And we're overdue a lesson.'

'My break isn't for hours yet.' Lily said apologetically, checking her watch and trying not to yawn. Even though every nerve ending sparked with electricity when she thought about last night, the lack of sleep had left her body drained and her muscles wasted. She felt as though she were living solidly on joy, the emptiness in her stomach now a permanent ache.

'I'll wait,' Gem said with a shrug. She flung herself down on one of the waiting room chairs and opened a magazine to an article labelled 'How to Know if it's a Thing'.

Lily smiled ruefully. She had a feeling she knew exactly what Gem was here for.

Gem studied Lily over the top of her mag. Iain could be right – Lily could be dieting. Her cheekbones stuck out lividly, the cords in her neck pulled taut. Her hipbones were a little to prominent through her high-waisted pencil-skirt – in fact, she barely had hips to speak of. Gem frowned.

To her, it was difficult to understand. Gem had issues – she knew she did – but she'd never had issues with her body. There had been girls at her school who had purged, girls who had dyed their hair and skipped meals and talked about nose jobs and tummy tucks – but she'd never had a problem. To be fair, she'd never really had time to care about her appearance, although now she was making her own money she'd developed her own style – grungy ripped jeans and hoodies, mostly.

She yawned, flapping her face with the magazine. She still sometimes got stuck on the longer words but her reading had gained fluidity and she could manage this teen mag with ease, leaving her mind free. She came up with a plan.

Taking the fistful of coins she had left over from her last pay, she slipped over to the shop and scanned the shelves. Selecting a blueberry muffin (blueberries were healthy, weren't they? Yes, they were) and a Lucozade energy drink, she went to the counter. Handing over her money, she strolled back to her seat as casually as she could.

Four hours later, Gem was climbing the walls with boredom. Her phone had died a long time ago, and she'd read the magazine three times. When Lily eventually entered reception she collared her immediately.

'Hi, Lily! Are you on your break now?'

Lily sighed wearily. Technically she was on her lunch break, but she'd been prepared to work right through it, hoping nobody would notice.

'Gem, I was going to work for a bit longer…'Lily pleaded.

'Come on,' Gem said tenaciously.

Lily bit her lip. Would Gem expect her to eat something? Maybe she could say she'd already eaten earlier?

Connie strutted past. 'Hello, Gemma,' she said. She was one of the few people who could get away with calling Gem that. 'Here to have a lesson?'

'Just a quick one.'

'It's your lunch break now, isn't it, Lily?'

Lily nodded mutely.

'You go give Gem a lesson while you eat lunch,' Connie dictated. 'I don't mind.'

Connie smiled a little as she left the two. Despite what her past might say about her, Gem was a sensible girl and would see Lily ate something. Lily was wasting away by the day and Connie couldn't bear her emaciated appearance. She figured it was probably stress, from her father's death. Work had been pretty intense lately, too.

Lily followed Gem into the staffroom reluctantly. Gem sat her down and pulled out the muffin and drink.

'Here, I got you lunch,' she said brazenly.

'Oh…'Lily glanced at the little cake in horror. 'No thank you, Gem, I…um, already ate.'

She was a rubbish liar.

'Are you sure?' Gem said. 'Connie said you hadn't.'

'No, she didn't.'

'Well, she implied it.' Gem liked that word. It was one of the first ones Lily had taught her.

Lily put her head in her hands and massaged her temples. 'Can we not do this now, Gemma? I'm getting a migraine.' A flash of inspiration. 'I feel really sick. I couldn't eat a thing.'

Gem's eyes narrowed, but she slipped the muffin back into her jacket pocket. 'At least drink this.' Gem shoved the energy drink towards Lily. 'Drinks are good for headaches. I don't have to be a doctor to know that.'

'Um…no – no thank you, Gemma, I don't like Lucozade.' Lily felt slightly ill just looking at the bottle. 'I'll have some water,' she whispered.

'It's Gem,' Gem corrected ferociously, frustrated.

'Sorry.'

Gem looked at Lily's back and sighed. However stubborn she might be, Gem knew when she was beaten.

Lily took short, rasping breaths, hand gripping the porcelain sink. Gem suspected something. She must. The money Gem earned was precious to her – she rarely spent it on anyone else, let alone on Lily's lunch. Maybe Iain had said something?

The knot in her chest tightened maliciously. If Iain had noticed her dieting, he must have noticed why. Seen the extra weight. Maybe the kiss last night hadn't meant anything. He'd been drunk, she'd been desperate, and she'd been convenient.

Her chest began to twinge, and her breath tore out of her lungs in rapid, ragged gasps as the panic mounted. No. _No._ Iain wasn't like that. He liked her, she knew he did.

 _Yeah right_ , snarled a little voice in the back of her mind. _He had the pick of Holby and he chose_ you?

No, no, no. She couldn't be that person again. She wouldn't be that person again.

Slowly, she began to calm down, and realised that tacky tears were streaming in sticky trails down her all-too-prominent cheekbones. She scrubbed them off furiously, scratching with her nails. She looked at herself in the mirror and her hysterical sobs caught in her throat as she stared in horror.

It was like looking in a fairground mirror, her reflection distorted to a freakish extent. Her blotchy collarbone and tear-stained cheeks were only the beginning. She could see her wide hips and soft, fatty stomach, her shirt straining at the seams. Her arms were chunky, even her wrists looked thick and ungainly.

She felt acidic bile rise in the back of the throat as she vomited into the sink.

Suddenly she was hysterical again, scratching at her wrists, leaving deep gouges. She was ugly as hell. Iain wouldn't want her. Nobody would like her. No doubt her mother was ashamed of her, her father had been. It was all her fault, everything that had happened was all her fault…

The door opened. It was like lifting her head above water, after too-long drowning. But as Lily saw who had entered, her heart plummeted.

'Lily, what happened?' Connie said urgently, eyes wide. She moved swiftly over to Lily's side, and took a bleeding wrist. Staring at the marks lining her arms she recoiled in horror.

'Oh, Lily…' Connie said softly.

Lily didn't know what to say. The words were tangled up with the feelings, she couldn't begin to unpick the knots and claw back her sanity. Oh God, she'd lost it. Really, properly lost it.

Connie began smoothing Lily's hair, a comforting, soothing motion. 'Come sit down in my office for a bit, okay, sweetheart?' she said gently. It was enough to make Lily nearly break down again. She couldn't even remember the last time another woman had looked at her with such tenderness in her eyes. Her mother just looked at her in perpetual disappointment, and Cara thought she was heartless and way to focused on her job. She never seemed to realise that she and Lily handled emotions differently.

Or in Lily's case, she didn't handle them at all.

She allowed Connie to lead her discreetly into her office and onto a low couch. The soft leather was cool to the touch, and Lily felt her heart slow. The adrenaline melted away, replaced by raw exhaustion.

There was a creak as Connie sat beside her. She was holding a plastic cup of water, which Lily lifted to her mouth with a shaky hand. Dimly, Lily was aware of Connie gazing at her scratches and scars, but she didn't look at the Clinical Lead's face. She didn't want to see the disgust there.

When she'd cut for the first time fourteen years ago, her parents had been repulsed. True, Lily had been going through a difficult time – a lot had happened – but she should have been able to adequately control herself, and shouldn't have descended to the level of harming her body. When she'd been admitted to hospital for the first time, her parents had barely been able to speak to her for shame.

Tears dripped into the water. Connie laid a still, cool hand between Lily's shoulder blades and began to rub in circles, small, smooth motions.

'Better now?'

Lily nodded.

'Okay.' There was a moment of pure, unbroken silence, which Lily relished. She didn't realise that Connie was mentally cursing herself for not recognising Lily's low self-esteem earlier. Well, she'd suspected, but she hadn't acted on those suspicions.

Silently, she handed Lily a tissue.

'I've got to go back to work, darling, but you can stay in here a while.' Already Lily was feeling a pinprick of embarrassment, which turned to solid dread as Connie added, 'and when I come back, we're going to talk.'

 **So thanks for reading, you got to know a bit about Lily there. If you like this kind of thing, TheBeautifulNerd's stories are brilliant** **Stick around, reviews are welcome, I'll update soon xx**


	11. Chapter 11

**milali: Yes, I think Connie is a much kinder person than she appears** **Thank you ever so much for your lovely long review and I hope you enjoy the update xx**

 **Okay, I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to write this chapter – but anyway, here goes. Review if it's any good xx**

'So.'

Lily looked up, her head throbbing from all the crying and the subsequent headache. She'd been sitting in Connie's study almost an hour now, nursing her cupful of water and picking at the scabbing scratches. They were an angry red and stood out lividly against the faded white scars on her forearms. She could still remember vaguely the first time she'd self-harmed, though she'd attempted to block it out, along with the many other childhood memories that still sparked pain and grief and guilt.

Her father had been furious, her mother irritated. Neither of them understood. Cara had told her to get over herself. There was one person who would have understood, but they weren't there anymore.

Now more than ever, with the impending talk with Connie looming, Lily wished she had that person by her side.

'Are you going to tell me what's going on?' The tenderness in Connie's voice surprised Lily and she risked a cautious glance up. Where Mrs Beauchamp's eyes usually burned with an icy glare, they'd softened and were filled with a compassion that made her look a lot younger.

'I – I…' Lily stuttered, the anxiety surging back up her throat and blocking her words. Connie sighed and took her hands, rubbing her thumb over the knuckles. Lily heard her breath catch as she felt the ridges of the scars but didn't dare sneak another glance at the Clinical Lead. Connie's head was bowed, hair hiding her face, and this made Lily feel braver.

'I'm – I am sorry, Mrs Beauchamp. I've not been coping quite as well…as I've been pretending.' Lily could feel her pulse thrumming through her aching temples. 'It was unprofessional of me to lose focus at work.' Her voice grew stronger.

'No, Lily sweetheart,' Connie said, sounding faintly scandalised. Lily's eyebrows drew together at the term of endearment. Sweetheart? 'You mustn't think that. If you need any time off work I'm happy to give it to you.'

Lily released a small, choked sound from her throat and composed herself. 'Of course not, Mrs Beauchamp – '

'Connie,' the Clinical Lead interrupted. 'Connie's fine,' she added in a gentler tone.

But Lily couldn't call her Connie. It felt odd. 'I've had trouble focusing lately, but I've got the anxiety under control.'

'Hurting yourself is not control. Crazy dieting is not control.' Connie didn't know what made her say it, and she cursed her stupid, runaway mouth a moment later. She'd spent enough time around psychologists to know diving straight in was not the way to go about it.

Definitely not. Lily sprung from the couch, eyes flashing as she tugged the sleeves of her shirt over the red scratches mottling her arms. 'I have not hurt myself!' she denied, voice crackling with something akin to fear.

The hard, Ice Princess mask had fallen and shattered. Tears were lining her eyes in silver and her hands were shaking, trembling as Lily stood over Connie.

 _Well, shit._ 'What happened to your arms then?' Connie retorted, voice sharp as a blade, slicing through the tension.

Lily snapped. 'None of your business! I just scratched them on something!' Her voice cracked as she told the blatant lie. She snaked her arms round her too-thin waste and turned away. Connie blanched at the sight of her shoulder blades, poking through her shirt like sprouting wings.

'Lily, what have you done to yourself?' Connie cried, springing up. In two strides she had Lily by the bony wrist. 'You've been cutting back, haven't you? Dieting? I see you skipping lunch breaks and jogging round town, but this is out of control, Lily. Sit down. Please, sit down. Talk to me.' Her voice was low and gravelly. Connie's throat burned as she pleaded to this beautiful, gifted doctor who couldn't see herself as either of those things. 'Please,' she whispered.

Slowly, Lily sat, not moving her arms from her waist or her gaze from the floor. Connie kept a grip on her wrist, feeling the bones and the contours of the muscles as Lily tensed, ready to bolt.

'You can't just run away when things get too much,' Connie said softly.

Tears glinted in Lily's eyes. 'I'm sorry, Connie.' She was. She'd never realised how much her sharp-tongued, cool-eyed boss had cared for her. 'But I promise you. I have this under control. Trust me.' Those slanted brown eyes searched Connie's own, and when Lily said, 'I'd like to go and work now, Mrs Beauchamp,' Connie, against her better judgement, let her go.

There was a faint knock at the door, and Connie was jerked from her reverie. She'd been contemplating everything Lily had said to her in this office – the stupid things she had said back. She'd handled the situation with about as much grace as an elephant.

'Come in!'

Iain opened the door and stood on the threshold. 'You wanted to see me, Mrs Beauchamp?'

'Come on in,' Connie said wearily. Iain stood in front of her, still in his bulky paramedic's jacket, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. 'I wanted to speak to you about Lily.'

An inkling of understanding dawned on Iain's face. 'Ah,' he said, nodding.

'So you've noticed something too.' Another nod.

'She's lost a bit of weight. You know, I thought it was grief, but now I'm not so sure. I think she might be dieting.' Iain lowered his voice as though the words tasted nasty on his tongue.

 _You don't know the half of it,_ Connie thought drily. 'Have you noticed anything else? Anxiety, panic attacks…self-harm?' She struggled to keep her face impassive.

Iain scuffed the polished linoleum with his boot. _It's like being summoned to the headmistress's office_ , he though nervously, averting her gaze. Instead he focused on an ugly sepia painting above her head. Though he felt pricklings of guilt as he felt he was betraying Lily, he said, 'she seems a bit quietly lately. But…no, nothing major. Why, has something happened?'

Connie tapped her fingernails on the mahogany desk. 'I'm a little concerned about Lily's state of mind at the moment,' she said in her best businesslike manner. _That's right. Keep it detached. Impersonal._ 'Since her father's passing, she seems a little withdrawn…I'm concerned her anxiety might be making a resurgence.' _Obviously_. 'I just wanted a second opinion.'

A cleft appeared between Iain's eyebrows. 'A resurgence?' he said. 'She's had anxiety before?'

'Um…only fleetingly,' Connie replied. Oops. 'Sorry, I assumed you already knew.'

'Wow, no I – I didn't,' Iain said haltingly. God, that painting really was ugly. 'She never told me.'

'Oh, well, if anything happens, tell me,' Connie said shortly. Why was Lily always so shut-up? She was as impenetrable as a vault, just like Connie herself. Maybe that was why she liked her so much.

'Do you think something will happen?'

Connie held the door open in the universal signal for _get out._ 'Goodbye, Iain.'

It was Friday, three days since Connie and Iain's little chat, and the worry still lingered. It troubled him that Lily wouldn't mention how she felt, if she was feeling anxious or ugly or whatever. He supposed it had only been a few weeks, but that was the kind of thing you told close friends and…well, he was fairly certain he and Lily were more than that.

He pressed the buzzer and a moment later heard Lily's voice on the intercom. 'Iain?'

'Pizza delivery!' he quipped into the speaker.

He heard an awkward little laugh and a muffled comment. Something along the lines of, 'as if I would order pizza.'

'Well, come on up! I'm sure I can find someone who'll enjoy a free pizza,' Lily's voice crackled down the line.

Iain made his way into her flat. Decorated in insipid tones – cream and tan and low-key moss green – it was elegant, classy, and kept in meticulous order. It spoke volumes about Lily herself – in fact, her interior decoration tastes probably told Iain more information about his girlfriend than Lily would ever willingly volunteer.

'I just need to grab my phone, I can't remember where I left it,' Lily said, turning to leave.

''Kay,' Iain replied, his attention on something else. Lying on one stylish corduroy couch was a leather-bound book – an album of some kind. Figuring Lily wouldn't mind – she'd left it lying open – Iain scooped it up, his eye falling on the first page.

It was a photograph of a happy Chinese family – a angular-jawed man with Lily's ink-dark hair, and a pretty woman with her affectionate brown eyes. Lily stood in the middle, maybe ten years old, waiflike between the two older girls either side of her.

Iain vaguely recognised one of them as Lily's older sister Cara – Lily had shown him a little portrait she kept on her bedroom cabinet of her, during one of the fleeting moments Iain had got her to open up about herself – but the other girl, who looked about a year older than Lily in the photo, was completely unfamiliar.

Lily had never mentioned another sister. She'd only ever told him about Cara – but then she rarely spoke about her family. He turned a page, feeling a little rude, but curious at the same time. It wasn't a crime to want to know about your girlfriend's family, was it? If this relationship was going to get serious, he'd end up meeting them at some point anyway.

Lily, Cara and the other girl were on the next page, too – school photos. Iain smiled at eleven-year-old Lily, at secondary school for the first time with her older sister. Or sisters. Iain was fairly sure the other girl was a relative, as she looked like a slightly-older double of Lily.

'What are you doing?'

Lily's voice was so bitingly furious Iain dropped the album like it was red-hot.

'Why are you looking at that?'

Iain had no answer.

Lily strode across the room and snatched up the book, cradling the binding and fingering the glossy pages. 'Why were you touching it?'

Iain began to feel a flicker of defensiveness. 'It was lying there, open. I didn't think you'd mind. I was just curious. You never tell me anything about your family.'

'Well, maybe there's a reason for that,' Lily snapped, each word flying from her lips like a bullet. Iain could scarcely believe those same lips had kissed him so shyly, so gently. 'I don't really tell anyone about my family.' Her voice became softer, but her eyes were cold and unforgiving.

All for looking at some stupid photo album. In an attempt to placate her, he said 'I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd mind.'

Running a hand through her hair, Lily sank onto the couch, still clutching the photo album. She looked as though she was too tired to stay standing any longer. She really had lost weight, Iain thought nervously. Her collarbones were like knives in her chest and her eyes were ever so slightly, but disturbingly, sunken in. In the half-light, she looked almost skeletal.

'No, I – I'm sorry. I just – I'm not really a talkative person. And my family…' she trailed off, picking at her fingernails.

'Oh, God – your father.' It had been months, but Iain felt terrible for forgetting. 'I'm so sorry. You don't have to talk about anything, I understand.' His warm hazel eyes searched Lily's own, pleading and gentle.

'No – no, that's okay.' Lily let out a faint, breathy sigh. Iain took her hand, tracing the creases in her palms. She was wearing a long-sleeved sweater, her wrists covered by the dark wool.

They sat like that for a moment, immersed in the silence.

'It was my sister's birthday. I was just – just looking at some old pictures. I found them at the back of the cupboard.' Lily stared unseeingly at their clasped hands.

'Cara's birthday?' Lily made no sign of assent. 'You were a sweet little kid – Cara looked very like you.' Lily was tense, but she gave a stiff little smile. Iain wasn't sure what made him do it – curiosity maybe – but he probed deeper. He wanted to know his girlfriend. She knew plenty about him. 'Who was the – the other girl? The middle one. You've never mentioned her before.' Straightaway Iain knew he'd made a mistake.

Her hand snaked out of his grasp and she recoiled from him. Her eyes were dark and slightly frightening – the emotions in them were too chaotic to read. Lily's voice came out raspy and strained, edged with fury. 'That's – that was no-one!' She sounded hysterical, and Iain reached to touch her arm. 'Lily – '

'I don't think I want to go out tonight, Iain,' Lily said coldly, her breathing fast. Just like that, she was closed again. The shutters in her eyes had come down.

'But – Lily, please. I'm sorry.' Iain reached for her hand again, but she withdrew from him.

'I – I can't do this today.' She was teetering on the edge of a panic attack, and Iain jut wanted to hold her, and kiss her, and tell her things would be okay. A lump came to his throat as he watched her turn away, arms across her unnaturally flat stomach. Closing herself off from him. Like she always did.

'Lily,' Iain began. He could see it was hopeless, but he tried anyway – to make amends for whatever in hell he'd done. 'I didn't mean to upset you. Was it that girl?' She took a step back.

They were only a few feet away from each other, but it might've well been miles. A chasm had opened between them, a crevice Iain couldn't fill.

'I'm sorry, I'll – I'll leave.' He turned to go. He had his keys, his coat, his hand on the door before she spoke again, her voice empty and hoarse.

'Iain – I'm really sorry.'

Iain waited a moment, and she wiped a hand across her eyes, smudging black across her hollow cheeks. 'Her name was Kia,' she said, her voice barely audible. 'I loved her so – so much. It was her birthday today.'

For a moment, all could be heard was the clock, ticking softly. Iain knew Lily despised him seeing her in this vulnerable state – and he himself could scarcely believe this saddened, empty person was his wonderful, big, brave Lily Chao. He didn't want to see it. He wanted her strut back, her overwhelming confidence. But now, he couldn't be sure if that was real.

'What happened to her?' His voice echoed in the silence.

'She died.' Lily sounded emotionless. Something in her voice made Iain know that was all she was going to say. He turned the handle and left. Perhaps, if he'd hesitated just a moment, he would have heard Lily add in a whisper, 'I killed her.'

 **I'm sorry, this chapter didn't turn out how I wanted. It felt rushed and confused to me, but hopefully you all liked it okay. You now know about Lily's past! More will be revealed in later chapters, so I'll try to update soon. Reviews are welcome** **Thanks so much for reading, it means such a lot xx**


	12. Chapter 12

**TheBeautifulNerd: Thanks so much for your lovely long review, I love Connie's character and I love writing it too. Iain is going to be a big help to Lily in this story**

 **milali: Aw, thanks! Yes, you'll find out more about what happened and I hope you like it xx**

 **Thanks so much for reading, you guys are the best. Hope you like this chapter xx**

 **Warning – this chapter contains themes some people could find upsetting. Don't read on if you're easily affected by self-harm or suicide.**

 _Lily rolled her eyes._

' _Can I see your wrists, please, Lily?' her psychologist said quietly. She pulled her already-misshapen sleeves over her forearms, shaking her head mutely. Dr Patel sighed, but his face remained patiently impassive._

' _I haven't done anything.'_

' _I didn't say you had.'_

 _A couple more wasted seconds ticked past. 'Shall we do some association?' Dr Patel suggested, after a moment of uncomfortable silence._

' _No.' God, she sounded like a five-year-old. Though, truth be told, she hardly felt fifteen._

' _Is there anything you would like to talk to me about, Lily?' Dr Patel's eyes were wide and earnest across the battered desk. He was young, maybe late twenties, with an expressive, compassionate face and a soothing voice, like a hypnotist. Your average shrink._

 _Lily shrugged, her frame birdlike beneath the oversized sweatshirt. After a second, she spoke, her words unsteady, hesitant._

' _I still have nightmares. Sometimes. Not as much anymore, but…' her voice trailed off._

' _I see,' Dr Patel said slowly. 'And what happens in these nightmares?' She uncrossed her legs, feeling self-conscious with those eyes never leaving her face. He uncrossed his legs too, mirroring her._

' _Usually I'm just – I'm with Kia, and she…' Lily's voice splintered and broke off._

' _Just take your time,' Dr Patel said gently._

' _Well, I see it all over again. Kia on the floor, and me – me…I'm just standing over her and I can't help.' Lily refused to blink, feeling tears clinging to her eye lashes. She couldn't remember the last time she'd bothered to wear makeup. What was the point anyway, when some days she looked like a sallow-skinned, skeletal freak and other days she could barely look at the mirror for fear of what she'd see there? 'Sometimes_ māmā _and my – my father are there too, and there saying things – shouting at me. Shouting all the – the things they said that night, when…when I – I came home without her – without Kia.' She could feel her cheekbones growing blotchy as tears slid down her face, trickling across the sharp contours of her cheekbones, over the sunken hollows beneath her eyes and down past her chapped, bitten lips into the collar of her sweatshirt, sticky and salty. She could taste them. It was a familiar taste._

' _What are they saying?' There's no probing in the question. It was a gentle nudge, but she felt she owed it to him. After all, he'd spent hours upon hours in this cramped, poky little office with her – the insane, too-thin girl with knife marks on her forearms and lank hair. A year ago, she would've been stuck into her homework by now, her hair glossy and shiny as she helped herself to her mother's famous chow mein and spring rolls. Kia would have been sitting across for her, commenting on how_ māmā _really needed to learn to cook English meals. Cara would be rolling her eyes in a corner, her face framed by her newly-dyed hair._

' _They – they're saying –'_ Deep breaths. Count to ten. _'It's all my fault. That I was a stupid, careless girl and Kia would still be alive if it wasn't for me.' Her thoughts and emotions were knotting inside her head, becoming more and more tangled as she struggled to separate them. 'I left her to die. They were saying – saying it was all my fault. All – my -fault.' Her breath was catching on the knots which were tightening with a menace. 'They were saying I killed her.'_

 _The words floated through the room, leaving everything vibrating, like a piano after a final, crashing chord. The chaos inside her head was dissipating now. Things made sense again. 'They're right, aren't they?'_

 _Dr Patel opened his mouth to say something, but the words were still clanging to loudly in Lily's ears for her to hear him. I killed her. I killed her. I killed her…_

Lily woke with a gasp, like a fish out of water. She was soaked in an icy night sweat, her baggy t-shirt clinging to her overly prominent ribs, a damp patch staining the small of her back. Her spine was crawling, her hands were quaking, her head still spinning from the aftermath of the dream. She checked the clock, her heart still pounding a drum roll beneath the fabric of her shirt.

Five thirty.

Her head felt like it was going to split open as a million thoughts stung and splintered her skull. I killed her. _All my fault. Kia would still be alive…if…if it wasn't for me._

Choking down her hysteria, she swung her legs out of bed, feeling the mattress give as she stood. The normalcy of the action soothed her, and the clamp on her lungs loosened somewhat. She headed to the bathroom, remnants of the dream catching on her subconscious. _All my fault. I killed her._

She stood in the shower, letting the water run frigid. The numbing cold shocked her mind out of the tangled dream. Savouring the pain, she spun the shower dial until the water was blisteringly hot, banishing the thoughts until only one remained.

It sang in her ears as she pinned up her hair and strode through her flat. It echoed in her head as she made black tea – no milk, no sugar – and slipped into her a fresh t-shirt and leggings _. I killed her. I killed her._

She shivered as she stood on the scales. She seemed to be permanently cold these days, her muscles weak with tremors. No amount of sunshine could warm her. Only Iain's kisses – electrifying and full of love – made her feel substantial. Warm. Like more than just a too-curvy doctor drifting through the days.

She frowned as she picked up the scales and shook them. That couldn't be right. In accordance to almost all medical studies, she was severely, almost dangerously underweight, but that just couldn't be right. Her hips were still soft and flabby, her thighs vast and her ribs, though countable, were layered with fat.

 _I killed her._

With a shriek tearing from her lungs, Lily threw the scales to the ground, where they shattered. Glass spread across the tiles, chunks of cracked plastic littering the floor. Silent tears streaming down her face, Lily dropped to her knees and pressed her palms to the wreckage, barely wincing as shards pierced the tender skin.

 _What is wrong with me?_ She'd gone insane. Finally, completely and utterly mental. She'd pushed Connie away, and now she'd told Iain about Kia. He must hate her now. She'd kept such a massive secret, for such a long time. It was eating her up from the inside, poisoning her mind and her relationships, and now, letting the blood flow from her hands, it was filling her up and drowning her from within.

 _I can't escape this_ , she thought desperately. She'd been going through her everyday motions this morning – making tea, combing her hair, showering – with the secret screaming and clawing at her sanity. Iain thought she was at best flaky, and at worst – probably a liar. And Connie…

Lily suppressed a moan. Connie did care for her. She did.

But maybe she was fooling herself. It was Connie's job to care for her staff. Maybe she just didn't want anyone else to spot whatever in hell was going on with Lily. Maybe she didn't want to be accused of negligence. Because who, in all honesty, had any reason to care about her?

 _IkilledherIkilledherIKILLEDHER…_

Her hand felt for her phone, scrabbling over fragments of the scales. It had fallen from the shelf when she'd thrown the scales at the wall, and lay amongst the debris, cracks spidering the surface. Holding it in trembling hands, blood trickling from her knuckles and palms, she traced a fingertip across the screen. Red bloomed from her skin.

She drew in a shaky breath and imagined her chaotic, crazy thoughts falling into drawers. Carefully, she shut the drawer labelled Iain. _As if he loves me now he knows I've kept such a massive secret from him._ She blocked of any thoughts of her mother – how her mother would feel, what her mother would think. _She has Cara. She'll be fine._ Slowly, the clamp on her lungs loosened, the knots relaxed for the first time in months as Lily came to a decision.

She didn't want anyone to interfere. She tapped Connie's number, exhaling a long, quivering breath when her answer-machine rang through the bathroom. Bringing the fragmented phone screen closer, she spoke into it. She felt an eddy of pride whirl through her – fleeting, then gone – when she heard how normal she sounded. Like she didn't have a care in the world.

She let the phone fall from her grasp, where it finally shattered.

 _I killed her._ Her pulse was thrumming in her head, so fast it became one constant, unending vibration, so loud – so loud…

The thoughts wouldn't stop coming, detonating within her skull. She felt her mind was aching with the effort of staying sane. Any second now, she would explode inside. Fireworks popped behind her eyes.

Right now, more than anything – more than being thin, more than having Iain love her, more than to be able to have Kia back or eat without wanting to puke – Lily wanted peace.

She wanted her head to be quiet again. She wanted the voices to go away, and the guilt, and the fear and hatred and anger and shame and doubt.

Lily wanted peace.

But she couldn't find it.

 _I killed her._

Maybe now, she could join her.

Connie stripped off her gloves as she entered her office. The serene atmosphere of _silence_ enveloped her as she closed the door. She'd never fully appreciated how wonderful the mere absence of sound could be.

It was a pandemonium outside. The ED was stretched to it's limits, and under the guise of having some paperwork to sort through, Connie had taken her break early in an effort to escape the mania. Sinking into a desk chair, she let her mind wander – and as per usual, her mind circled back to what had been bothering her all night, and all morning – Lily.

Lily's shift started in an hour. Preoccupiedly, Connie flicked open her phone and scrolled through her messages, still savouring the sweet, sweet quiet.

Connie had already decided to tell Lily – no, _order_ her – to take a couple of days off. Maybe a week. She was fading away, become more bone than flesh, her eyes constantly shadowed by stress and lack of sleep. And then of course there was the issue of the cutting. Even in Lily's more severe bouts of anxiety – after the minibus crash, and when she'd crashed her moped – she'd never sunk to this level. Though Connie knew Lily would hate for her to interfere, she was already looking into getting the young doctor some counselling. Lily needed to learn that occasionally, independence could be a fault. It was a lesson Connie had trouble with sometimes too.

She had a voicemail from Lily. Tapping it, she leant back as she heard Lily's voice crackle through the room.

' _Hi, Mrs Beauchamp. I just – just wanted to let you know that I won't – that I'm unwell and I'm not coming into work today. I'm really sorry. I'm really, really sorry. Tell Iain for me. '_

Connie frowned. While she felt a measure of relief that Lily could see she needed a break, she couldn't help but feel an inexplicable pinprick of worry. Lily's voice sounded ordinary – even, apologetic, offhand – but it sparked some primal sense in Connie. Her doctor's instincts were telling her something was wrong.

She shook back her hair. It was nothing. Lily had finally seen sense and was giving herself a well-needed break. She wanted her to tell Iain.

That didn't sit right. Why didn't Lily call Iain herself, as they were now – officially – an item? It was such an insignificant little detail, but it added to Connie's unexplainable, but growing, unease.

Maybe they'd fought? It would explain why Iain had seemed distracted in the cursory moments they'd spent together today. Connie sighed, knowing she was overthinking. Maybe she'd give Lily a call later on today, just see how she was doing.

Despite the edginess hovering at the back of her mind, Connie brushed her hair back, slipped on a fresh pair of gloves and clacked out of her office, ready to do battle with the unruly ED.

'Something on your mind, Iain?'

Iain turned to see Jez, a basketball in the crook of his arm. 'No, nothing much,' he replied, though he couldn't keep back a sigh.

After last night, with Lily abruptly cancelling their date and telling him about her dead sister, he was left reeling – and with a slight anxiety preying on his mind. She'd never even mentioned Kia – as far as he could tell – to anyone. The raw, naked vulnerability on her face when she'd told him had frightened him – seeing somebody usually so self-assured and certain hovering on the edge of something very dark. That look still haunted him, more than anything she'd said. He couldn't get it off of his mind.

'Something to do with Lily?' Jez dropped the ball, deftly catching it again with one hand and flinging it towards the basketball hoop. It clattered to the ground. 'Did something happen at your date?'

'Nothing happened at our date. Literally nothing. That's the point. She cancelled,' Iain said, keeping his face impassive. He scooped the ball from the air and gave it a careless throw.

'Aw, tough luck, mate,' Jez said, overly sympathetic. His mouth twitched. 'Don't tell me she cancelled because she was working. Because I can see that happening a lot if this lasts.'

Iain lobbed the ball at him. Jez dodged nimbly. 'No, she just – didn't feel like it. There'll be other dates.'

Jez nicked the ball from the air and attempted to throw it back, but Iain tackled him, and they tussled companionably for a moment.

It was nice to have a break. The shift had been non-stop, relentless call-outs. Iain had barely had time to ponder what Lily had told him, but it also meant he hadn't had a second to speak to her. In fact, he hadn't even seen her today. She was probably working in cubicles, especially as Connie seemed to be a bit concerned about her wellbeing at the moment – yet another thing for Iain to muse over when he got the chance. Lily seemed to have crossed some kind of line in her dieting now – the 'healthy' line. She was wasting away.

Entering the crammed, stuffy ED, Iain winced as the smell of vomit hit his nose. Saturday noon was not one of their worst times, but not one of their best either. Mainly drunks nursing injuries consequent of a night of hard drinking. The waiting room was packed, and Noel had a lengthy queue in front of the reception desk.

No sooner had Iain taken two steps into the hospital's interior he was collared by a harried Mrs Beauchamp. Her gloves were bloodied and she stripped them off as she spoke, barely pausing in her stride.

'Lily's not here if you're looking for her, Iain. She called in sick this morning.'

'Oh,' said Iain, disconcerted. 'Well, I'll – I'll check on her after work then, my shift finishes in a moment.'

Connie nodded then vanished into the throng of doctors and patients. Iain stared after her for a second, then left the manic ED and strode off to collect his things from his locker.

Why hadn't Lily called him? Didn't she want to, after last night? Grabbing his stuff, Iain changed quickly and clambered into his car, calling Lily's mobile. It went straight to voicemail. He frowned and tried again.

She's probably just sleeping, he reasoned, pulling out of the parking lot. He needed to speak to her, though. He wanted to tell her he understood about Kia, and – he admitted to himself – he was missing her. They'd hardly kissed last night, and right now he found himself hungering for her company.

Maybe now, with her vulnerable and her secret for him to see, he could pluck up the courage to tell her he loved her.

The dent in the bathroom wall dropped flakes of plaster onto the tiles below.

It was quiet. Very quiet. Little sound seeped through the half-open window, and the only breath in the room was light and scarcely audible. The phone ringing reverberated in the silence, bouncing of the walls, ceiling, the floor.

The floor was littered with the cracked remains of the scales and flooded with crimson. The entire bathroom was the scene of destruction. The cabinets were ransacked, the contents splayed across the sink and the tiles, and a packet of razors had been torn open, the blades glinting in the half-light.

Dark scarlet stained the tiles and the shirt of the slumped figure in the shadowy room.

Lily lay with her back against the bath and her head tilted to the ceiling. Her wrists dangled at her sides, two neat cuts trickling red and her eyes were half-open, stars glittering inside.

She was only semi-conscious; lost in her head. Slipping between memories and reality. The memories were sweeter, softer. Reality was cold and harsh and painful. She let herself drift.

 _She was on the swing at the local park, the wind racing past her cheeks as she flew back and forth. Before her, she could see the outline of the street she lived on; beyond that, the city of Hong Kong. From behind her, she could hear Kia laughing, music carried on the breeze as though the sound had wings._

Lily could hear the tap dripping, the sound rhythmic and deafening in her dizzy head. She let her eyelids fall again.

 _She stood outside the school gates, the September air crisp around her. Autumn leaves whirled around her feet in a blur and in a sudden ache, she missed China. It had been three years. She was eleven now, and she had Kia beside her, hand clutching hers. Her first day at high school. Kia smiled, already worldly-wise and – in that moment – exactly what Lily needed._

Lily could hear her phone, it's ringtone piercing. But she was too tired. Too tired.

 _Kia tapped her under the chin, gently, and thirteen-year-old Lily lifted her head obediently. Kia's hands were light as cobwebs as she brushed the eyeshadow onto Lily's eyelids, muttering under her breath in Chinese. 'Stay still,_ _Lìlì!' she snapped, and Lily stopped wriggling._ _'Good.' Kia stood back to admire her handiwork. 'There, all done!'_

Lily could feel tears seeping from beneath her closed eyelids. She could hear somebody knocking at the door, an insistent tapping.Iain. Lily shivered.

' _Don't go,_ Qǐyà!' _Lily pleaded, as Kia clicks open the front door almost soundlessly. 'What if dad finds out? He'll get mad.'_

 _Kia just laughed, that new, wild laugh Lily didn't recognise. Her eyes sparked wickedly. 'He won't find out. Unless you tell him.'_

 _Kia knew as well as Lily that Lily would never tell. She'd known about Kia's late night excursions for a while now, but to break Kia's confidence would be unthinkable. But to think of Kia at one of those loud, hot parties with drunk boys and drugs…_

' _Come on, Lily. Live a little.' Kia kept her hand on the doorknob as they stared at each other. Lily's stomach twisted anxiously, but she gave in – as usual. 'I'll come. To keep an eye on you.' It wasn't the first time Lily had felt like it was she was the one who was a year older. Lily slipped into a jacket and stepped towards the door._

 _Kia snorted. 'Not like that, you don't!' Kia took her by the hand and lead her up to her room, swift but silent, her eyes playful. She tugged out a couple of low-cut tops Lily didn't know she had. 'Let's fix you up.'_

 _Lily smiled as she basked in her sister's glow. She was so special._

 _Maybe Lily could be special, too._

Lily felt her last drop of consciousness as she pictured Kia's smile. It was so bright. So beautiful. So _alive._

She knew this wouldn't have been what Kia wanted.

But it was too late now.

 **I'm so sorry if this chapter upset anyone. I might change the rating if you think it's a bit extreme. Please review and thanks so much for reading xx**


	13. Chapter 13

**TheBeautifulNerd: Thanks so much for your lovely long review. Your thoughts mean so much to me** **I hope you enjoy the update xx**

 **milali: Thank you! I wasn't sure how this chapter would go down so to know you think that it is amazing! Thanks so much for reading – more to come xx**

 **This chapter is pretty graphic too. I don't know if it's my best as I wrote it tired, in a rush one evening because I wanted to resolve the cliffhanger. Still, hopefully you'll like it. Thanks for reading xx**

Frowning, Iain knocked again.

No answer.

Of course, Lily was probably asleep, but usually she had her phone with her at all times and had never (until now) failed to answer. He wouldn't have thought anything of it, except there was a nagging doubt he couldn't quite place.

Iain jogged down the stairs and rapped smartly on her neighbour's door. After a moment a figure came to the fogged glass, and the door opened.

'Hi, I just wondered if you had a spare key to Lily's flat?' Iain said, trying to convince himself he wasn't overreacting. Lily had fainted before, hadn't she? What if she'd fainted again? He knew he was worrying – he rarely worried about much, except Gem.

And now, apparently, Lily.

'Um, yes, I think she gave me one,' the neighbour said, 'in case she lost hers.' Iain smiled with relief. Trust Lily to be hyper-organised. Taking the little key, he went back up to Lily's flat and unlocked the door.

The silence hung heavy here, and there was a smell in the air that made the hair on the back of Iain's neck stand up on end. It was an all-too-familiar smell, of salt and iron. He made his way through the darkened hallway.

'Lily?' he called. His voice rang out in the silence. Nothing.

He took another step in. 'Sorry to bust in on you like this, but I…' he paused, and glanced around the sitting room. No Lily. She wasn't curled up on the couch, wasn't sleeping in the armchair. The silence was almost eerie now.

He passed through to the bedroom and gave the door a tentative knock. It opened at his touch. Nobody. He touched the covers to make sure.

Some ancient instinct had awoken in him, telling his something was very, very wrong. The smell was stronger here. He recognised it now.

Blood.

Panicking slightly, he called again, his voice scratchy with fear. Outside the bathroom, he rattled the handle futilely. It was locked.

Abandoning any pretence of calm, he hammered on the door. 'Lily? Lily!' She was in there, she was in there and she wasn't answering, and he could smell blood, he could smell it…

Rocking back on his heels, he ran a hand through his hair, then threw his full bodyweight at the door. It groaned, bowing inward, but remained steadfast in its frame. Swearing, he rammed it again.

His breaths were coming in short, quick bursts now. His shoulder ached fiercely, but he was numb to the pain. Muttering a string of frustrated expletives and struggling to keep the rising wave of fear at bay, he hurried into the kitchen and took up a knife. Back outside the bathroom he hacked at the lock, the cords standing out in his neck. Again and again until it gave.

But nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

His mouth made the shape of the word _Lily,_ then he dropped to his knees and crawled to her side. 'Lily?' he murmured, shaking her as though she might just sit up and smile. Alive.

Not with two gaping cuts on her wrists…

'Lily!' Iain's voice rose, and his hand went instinctively to his pocket. 'Phone…' he muttered frantically, one hand still pressed to Lily's shoulder. Locating his mobile, he attempted to dial a number, his hands shaking so badly it almost clattered to the tiles below. It buzzed for a moment. Each second was agony to Iain. 'Don't die Lily, please don't die,' he begged as there was a click on the line.

Never had Iain been so relieved to hear the operators voice.

'999, which service do you require?'

'An ambulance…please, I need an ambulance!' Lily hadn't so much as twitched, and Iain traced the curve of her cheekbone as the line whirred. 'Putting you through,' the operator said, his voice cold, clinical.

'Lily, Lily…' Iain murmured. His heart was hammering, and it felt oddly heavy as he ran his thumb over Lily's knuckles. His entire chest hurt, as though his swollen heart was crushing his ribcage, obstructing his windpipe.

 _Calm. Down. Lily needs you_ , Iain reminded himself harshly. He took one fearful glance at her face and was struck by the peacefulness he saw there. It made him realise that she'd always been doubting, or anxious, or self-conscious. She looked calm. Like she was merely sleeping. So beautiful.

Hysteria rising, Iain beating it back, he sorted through his frenzy of thoughts back to his most basic first aid training. _Pressure. Apply pressure._ A voice came onto the line, and he replied shortly. 'Hurry up, please!' he pleaded, as the operator's weak words of comfort rebounded thinly in his ear. He grabbed a towel and a flannel and pressed them to Lily's wrists, which had leeched of colour. Though he'd never been squeamish, he felt as though he was going to vomit. Acidic bile burned the back of his throat and he shook and gasped for air, like a fish out of water. _Lift her arms. Elevate the wound._

He went through the motions robotically, all the while not taking his eyes of Lily's face. Her eyelashes lay curled in the hollows of her eye sockets. Her cheekbones seemed to slice directly through her skin. Yet she looked like she was sleeping, curled against the bath tub.

Knowing it could be his last time, he leaned forward and kissed her, while her lips were still warm.

Connie had a splitting headache. Groaning and massaging her temples, she popped another aspirin and ran a hand through her hair. The day had quietened, but there was still a degree of mania in resus. She only had a couple more hours on her shift, but with this migraine they would feel like days.

She strode out into the main hospital, as Charlie caught up with her. He wanted to consult with her about some patient that Connie couldn't give a damn about, but she did her best to be civil, though her answers were mostly monosyllabic.

'Long day, Mrs Beauchamp?' Charlie said, an amused smile playing across his face. He knew she'd barely taken in a word. 'You look a bit white.'

'Headache,' Connie replied curtly, and he looked mildly concerned.

'Anything I can – '

'No,' Connie interrupted. Aware she had been rude, she tugged her sleeves down and added, 'sorry, it'll pass.'

Charlie nodded, and had half-turned away when there was a bang and the double doors flew open. Instinctively, Connie stepped towards the gurney, but fell back when she saw the emaciated figure on it.

'Lily!' she could have shrieked it, or whispered, or not even made a sound. The entire world had blurred into a brightly-coloured fog and she could hear yells and sounds as though she was underwater. 'Lily…' she said, and the sound was barely a breath.

Her eyes were closed, her hair fanned out. The room spun and danced like a carousel as Connie struggled to focus. 'What…what happened to her?' she managed to choke out. Her grey shirt was stained patchy, rust-red and pressure-dressing had been applied to both arms. The red and white and green of the blood and the bandages and the blanket all seemed garish against her tan skin – her graceful limbs. Her mutilated arms.

Iain opened his mouth, then shook his head. His hands were bloodied and his hair was sticking up on end. His eyes were wild and pained and it was in that moment that Connie realised that Iain loved Lily more than anybody else did – more than Connie herself. She felt as though she was being crushed under the weight of seeing Lily's light frame on that gurney. She didn't want to know how Iain felt.

She was vaguely aware of somebody gripping her elbow – Charlie, maybe? The hands were sure and steady and warm, and Connie hung on to the reality of their touch, driftwood in a shipwreck.

Suddenly that shift occurred – that civilian-to-doctor shift. Bystander to helper. Follower to leader.

She snapped into action, but even as she took in the information as the paramedics reeled it off, her mind was going crazy. Thoughts were pinging off her skull like balls in a bingo machine. _Lily…Lily, what happened? You were fine. You were too thin, you were anxious, and your wrists were red and sore, but you were fine. And now…what weren't you telling me? Why didn't you tell me?_

She knew people were talking to her, she knew her hands were moving and her throat was burning as she called out brisk orders, but inside her stomach had coiled into a knot and she was feeling a new feeling. Uncertainty. Fear.

Lily couldn't die.

Connie wouldn't let her.

There were loud sounds – too loud. They hurt.

There were lights too – through her translucent eyelids she could see flashes of red and smudges of violet as the world around her shifted and spun.

Her back was against something hard. Her head was aching – aching so fiercely she thought it was surely splitting open. There were two burning, stinging pains consuming her arms, but her head was too fuzzy. She couldn't think.

It was a relief.

 _Is this hell?_ She wondered next. There were voices – vaguely familiar voices…but Lily couldn't place them. She heard words and could tell they were worried – even scared – but she couldn't piece them together to form any semblance of sense. It was like when she'd first moved to Britain at ten years old. There were words but no sentences. Sounds but no sense.

A face swam just behind her eyes. Her own face? No, younger. Fifteen, nearly sixteen. Kia's face. Her mouth was moving.

 _You're dying_ , she said. Her voice shattered through the kaleidoscope of noise in Lily's ears, piercing and clear. _You're dying._

 _I am,_ Lily thought, and felt release. Like she'd let something go. _Now we're both gone._

She felt something else in her chest – sharp pulsing pain. But she just pictured Kia's face.

 _You're dying, Lily._

'She's gone into VF.'

Iain pressed his hands to the glass, watching the doctor's buzzing round Lily's limp form. He was screaming inside but remained frozen as he watched the electronic trace flatline.

 _Oh God_. Iain had never been a religious person, but he prayed now. _Oh God, please save her. I'll do anything._

Charlie laid a hand on his arm, and was saying something, but Iain was too busy bargaining with the universe. _If you let me keep her, I will love her for the rest of my life. I'll never let her out of my sight. Please._

Brows were furrowed, and Iain could see Connie in there, moving quickly in her skyscraper heels. Externally, she was the picture of calm, but Iain detected a tremor in her gloved hands; knew Connie cared more than she'd ever be willing to let on. And from the moment he'd seen Lily on the floor, he'd known that Lily had thought nobody cared; nobody would miss her.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

Iain balled up his hands. _Let her wake up_ , he begged.

He'd never been more aware of time than in the moments between the words and the jolt that lifted Lily from the bed.

'Clear?'

'Shocking.'

Bang.

Iain blinked at the heart monitor. It buzzed – flickered – but faded again. _NononoNO…_

The doctors went through the motions again. And a third time.

Iain's shoulders sagged. Too late.

At that very moment, sounds of celebration erupted from the room and Iain jerked upright. No – no –

'Back in sinus rhythm,' Connie said, sounding as though she could scarcely believe it.

 _She's alive_ , Iain thought. His heart jumped and soared. _She's alive._

 **So definitely not one of my best (a shame as it's such a critical chapter) but I'll write a better one next time! Thanks for reading, means the world to me xx**


	14. Chapter 14

**milali: Thanks, maybe I am. Yes, there will be a lot for Lily to get straight before she can fully recover. Sorry for the wait and hope you enjoy the next chapter xx**

 **TheBeautifulNerd: Thanks so much, your encouragement means the world to me. Been a bit stuck for ideas lately xx**

 **Giatrix: Yes, I like to make sure my stories aren't one-dimensional. What Lily's struggling with is awful, but Iain and everyone else around her is going to be affected by that too. I hope that'll come through in the following chapters**

 **Guest: Hi and thanks for reviewing! Yes, that line was one of my favourites so I'm glad you appreciated it too xx**

 **casualtyfics111: Sorry for the delay, thanks for the review, here's your update!**

 **I'm so sorry that there's been such a long gap between the last update and this one. I've been really stuck for inspiration lately and I've had a lot going on. If you review, please tell me anything you want to happen in the story, or any ways I could make it better and I'll try to add them in, cause you support and reviews mean the world to me! Thanks for reading xx**

' _Kia? Kia!'_

The voice of her fourteen-year-old self-echoed through her head, like the toll of a long-since-rung bell.

' _Kia, please don't!'_

 _Her sister just laughed, her eyes glinting wickedly in the half-light. She didn't look like Lily's sister anymore. The lights flashing across her face illuminated the syringe in her hand, and in the hot, dense air Lily could smell the alcohol on her breath._

' _You promised no more!'_

' _Since when did I keep my promises? You've got a lot to learn, little sis.'_

Lily stirred on the bed. 'Is she waking up?' said a hopeful, desperate voice, piercing through her dreams. Low. Familiar. She knew that voice.

 _There was a hush as the crowds of teenagers split down the middle. Eyes glinted out from under hoodies and bottles glimmered around the room._

' _What happened to her?'_

' _Had too much, probably. She was completely pissed.'_

' _Is she breathing?'_

 _Lily pushed through the crowd, shoving and elbowing, feeling their drunk, sinister gazes on her back._

' _Who does she think she is?'_

' _Little bitch.'_

 _Lily flew to her sister's side. Kia lay in the centre of the party wreckage, her head flung back. Her eyes were closed. Lily felt for the phone, nausea rising up in her mouth. 'Kia! Kia!' she shrieked. Her hands fumbled across the keys of the landline – she had no idea who's house this was, who's phone this was, but she didn't care. She didn't care. 'Kia…'_

 _Bile rose up in her throat. By the side of her sister's unconscious body, she vomited. She retched and sobbed, the smell of sour alcohol sickening. There were exclamations of disgust, but she didn't care. She clutched her sister's cold fingers. 'Kia, wake up. Please, please wake up….'_

'Lily,' someone murmured. This voice was higher. Female. It sounded thick, tearful. 'Lily, I'm so, so sorry. Wake up, darling. Please?'

 _Lily stumbled home, shock ringing in her head. The paramedics had stood over Kia, touching her arms and her neck and bustling round her until she was hidden from view. Many of the partygoers had scarpered, but Lily had stayed and screamed and screamed as the paramedics looked at each other. Then at her. Then one of them had said something._

 _And now Lily was standing outside her house, a hulking beast in the night. And her parents' silhouettes were clear in the doorway, even as her vision blurred and splintered, like a kaleidoscope. Kia had had a kaleidoscope once, from a Christmas cracker or something. It had been lost years ago._

' _Lily!' her father called. His voice was furious, and terrified, a whole bunch of things Lily couldn't make sense of in her shocked, empty state. Her mother's voice joined her father's. 'Lily? Is that you? Come here, Lily!'_

 _Lily faltered on the step of the porch at the sight of her father's face. Shadowed and heavily lined, his rage seemed to draw the oxygen from the hallway as Lily shook in front of him._

' _Drunk!' he exploded, and slapped her round the face._

 _Her mother drew in her breath. Lily felt the impact before the pain, a dull throbbing that spidered from her cheek to her neck and her ear until her whole side was on fire. Gasping, she savoured the blow. A small burst of reality in this crazy nightmare._

' _Where's Kia?' Her father's spittle sprayed her face. 'Where is she?'_

 _Words failed her. She opened her mouth and closed it again._

 _Her father drew closer, menacing. Lily stared up at him. She wasn't frightened anymore. She'd lost everything anyway._

' _Kia's dead.'_

Lily's eyelids flickered, and Iain grasped her hand. 'Lily? Can you hear me?'

'Let her sleep,' Connie said gently, her hands grazing Lily's shoulder. 'Let her sleep.'

' _You stupid, stupid girl!'_

 _Lily cowered in the corner. Someone was sobbing – heart-wrenching, terrible wails. The door was still open, icy air slicing through the room, but her father didn't seem to notice. He was standing over her, Lily's alcohol-dampened mind spinning. 'I'm sorry!'_

' _You let her do this! You let her die! It's your fault!'_

' _I know! I know! I'm sorry!' Lily screamed, her throat raw. Her father's eyes burned with rage and grief and pain, and Lily felt guilt coursing through her like poison. Like a drug. 'I'm SORRY!'_

 _Her words resounded through the air, through the night, rattling the stars and carrying on the wind. They reverberated in Lily's head, multiplying and infesting her mind. 'It was my fault,' she confessed to her father, on her hands and knees. 'And I'm sorry.'_

Lily opened her eyes.

The light was blinding, sending bolts through her head. She felt groggy, as though she'd slept for a month. Everything echoed in her head.

To her left she could hear sound – motion. Rustling…and footsteps. To her right there was a persistent buzzing, and beeping, and clicking that rang in her ears. The sound seemed familiar. There was a low murmur, distant, like a waterfall through trees. Voices.

She'd been semi-conscious for a while now, hand-in-hand with reality and a fuzzy dream-world filled with memories. Dreams. Nightmares. How long had she been sleeping?

Cautiously, she opened her eyes again. Somebody was next to her, head lolling as he slept. Iain.

She opened dry, cracked lips. 'I…Iain?'

He jerked awake. 'Lily?'

Her head spun. 'Where – where am I?'

She knew where she was. She knew the flashing lights, the glaringly bright white paint, the sterile equipment in racks and the cold, clinical smell of disinfectant. She mouthed the word to herself as Iain said it, 'Hospital.'

'What happened?'

She tried to sit up. The covers rustled back and nausea rose in her throat. 'Iain!' she cried.

'Oh, Lily…' Iain grasped her shoulder gently and eased her upwards. The sadness in his eyes made her look down in shame. Had she done that?

Another thing to feel guilty for.

'You – you…' The words were lodged in Iain's throat. Lily already knew. The memory was back in sharp clarity. She took in the pressure dressings on her wrist and the monitors on the walls. She took in the heartbreak in Iain's expression, lining his face. She took in her own emaciated form, thin and fragile beneath the stinging cyan sheets.

'I tried to kill myself.'

Iain shivered at the dullness in Lily's tone. 'Lily…' his voice was almost pleading. 'Oh, Lily…' He stroked a stray strand of hair from her forehead, like silk between his rough fingers. Smooth against the callouses from guns and spades that still lined his palms. They were so different, and yet – yet, seeing her here, thin and faded, all he could feel was relief. That he still had her.

'You – you did.' Iain's voice was low and sorrowful. Lily could feel the presence of another nurse in the room, but the rest of the world had blurred out of focus as Iain caressed her cheek. He leaned in, but she flinched away.

The hurt on his face was unbearable, worse than the stinging in her wrists, which was ratcheting now the morphine was wearing off. 'You deserve someone better than me,' she whispered. She loved him, she loved him so much but – she was only going to let him down.

'No, Lily.' Iain tried to smile. 'I don't want anyone except you.'

There was silence. Lily played with the corner of her sheet. Iain couldn't help but feel there was a rift between them – a crack that had always been there but had now widened to the size of the Grand Canyon.

He curled her fingers into hers. The milky-brown skin of her hands was riddled with scars. Iain swallowed down a lump in her throat as Connie entered.

She sunk into a seat beside Lily and for a moment, they remained in silence. Connie looked terrible. Her eyes were heavily shadowed and her hair was tousled as though she'd been running her hands through it. Her hands were fidgety. She stroked Lily's covers, unbuttoned and buttoned her collar, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. The silence was an almost tangible thing by now, slinking through the room.

'Lily,' Connie began in a low, soft voice. 'You've been out about twelve hours. You lost a lot of blood. Do you – do you remember what happened?'

Lily nodded slowly. Her head twinged.

I've called your mother. She'll be here in an hour or two.'

Whatever Connie had expected, it hadn't been this. Lily's face drained of colour, and her hands shook violently. 'Connie – '

'What's wrong, sweetheart?' Connie said, massaging Lily's palm. Small rotations. 'It's okay. She's okay.' Lily was frighteningly pale, and a monitor began to beep, insistent. Iain cast it a worried look.

'You're going to be fine, Lily,' Connie went on, willing it to be true. 'Look at me.'

Tears gleaming, Lily's slanted brown eyes met Connie's own. 'You are going to be _fine.'_ Connie could hear Iain pacing, sniffing intermittently.

'You should get some rest, Iain. You've been up hours. I'll stay with Lily,' Connie suggested gently.

'I can't leave,' Iain said bluntly, without taking his eyes off Lily. 'I won't leave.'

'Lily'll be okay, I promise.'

'Yeah, that's what we thought!' Iain's voice rose, shaking. He felt something splinter inside, and an abyss of pain came streaming out. 'WE THOUGHT SHE WOULD BE OKAY! BUT LOOK AT HER! LOOK AT HER! SHE'S BEEN KILLING HERSELF FOR MONTHS AND WE – WE – '

Connie felt something slide down her cheek. Warm. Wet. 'Iain,' she whispered shakily. 'Iain, please…'

Iain deflated. He cast one look at Lily, who looked as though she'd just seen her entire world fall apart. Her eyes were sparkling. Her mouth quivered. Pure, unquenched guilt was spread across her face.

Iain strode out of the ED, leaving the door swinging behind him.

Lily swallowed. Her throat felt dry.

She'd been awake an hour. Connie had sat vigil by her bedside, speaking in hushed, tender tones. She told her that they were going to get help, they were going to find her someone to talk to. She told her Iain had saved her life and not left her side since she'd been found. Connie had cried – Connie Beauchamp – crying, telling her over and over how sorry she was, how awful she felt. How she wished she'd done something sooner.

Lily listened as though hearing it through a bubble. She felt emotionless. Detached. A flicker of panic had guttered in her stomach when Connie had mentioned treatment, but she comforted herself by reminding herself that no one would make her eat. Maybe once Connie knew how terrible she felt about her body, how miserable she was in her own skin…maybe Connie would help her lose weight.

Lying there, Lily tried to get things straight in her head, feigning sleep.

She would not lose control again. This had been a mistake, but once it had died down she would get right back to how things were before – working hard, making her father proud, strictly controlled portions. Perfect.

The knot in her chest tightened as she thought about her father. Her mother was coming. Her mother – her mother was…

…here.

Li Na stood in the door way, her cheeks tearstained. Her face distraught.

She looked so different.

It had been almost a year since Lily had last seen her mother, and something had changed. Her clothes, which had once fitted snugly round her delicate frame, hung off her body. Her skin was pale, yellowish, with an unhealthy tinge. Though her face was carefully made up, no amount of concealer could cover the shadows beneath her eyes, or the hollow cheeks. Her hair had lost it's glossy shine.

She'd lost so much weight. Even now, with a torrent of emotion swirling through her like a tsunami, Lily felt a prickle of jealousy. 'Māmā?'

'Bǎihé! Wǒ měilì de lìlì!' Her mother's voice cracked. God, even her voice sounded different – anguished and pained and hoarse.

'Is _K_ _ǎ_ _l_ _ā_ here?' Lily asked, as her mother neared. Lily couldn't tell if she felt hopeful or terrified. Her sister could be quite terrifying.

'She will be,' Li Na said haltingly. She touched Lily's cheek. 'Talk to me, Lily. I'm your mother. Talk to me.'

 **Sorry for the abrupt ending and the gap between updates. Chapter would have been longer but you would've had to wait another two days. Not my best chapter, but review all the same pls? Your support means everything and I appreciate constructive criticism too. I could use a beta if anyone's interested xx**


	15. Chapter 15

**milali: Thank you so much for your lovely long review! Means a lot. Poor old Iain – and Connie – are going to have their hands full dealing with Lily, and Iain probably isn't going to find it very easy. I hope you enjoy the update, it means a lot to me that you review so regularly xx**

 **TheBeautifulNerd: Thanks so much, your reviews are always so lovely and means so much** **Yes, Lily's mum is going to play quite a prominent role in Lily's recovery, so glad you like reading about her! Hope you enjoy the next chapter (ps well done on A Million Dreams, I've left a review, amazing writing).**

'How is she?'

Connie glanced up and sighed. Iain's hair was tousled; his eyes were rimmed with shadows and he seemed slumped, like something had drained out of him.

'You're bothered now,' she said icily, feeling petty. But he'd stormed out. Lily had needed him.

'I know, I'm sorry…' Iain's eyes were pleading, and Connie felt bad. After all, Lily wasn't the only one suffering. Instinctively, Connie shot a glance in the direction of Lily's room, even though she knew Lily was perfectly safe. There were nurses with her around the clock, and she had no access to anything she could hurt herself with.

'What happened?' Connie was pulled from her reverie by Iain's anxious tone. His gaze was on Lily's mother. She sat on one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, her face buried in a tissue and her frail shoulders shaking beneath her coat.

'Um, Lily…' Connie remembered the pain on Li Na's face. It had been awful to witness. 'She told her mother…in no uncertain terms…to get out. I don't know why. I think they have a history.' She rubbed a hand over her face and felt gritty, hours-old mascara rub off on her fingers.

Iain frowned. 'Do you think that's why she – you know – ' he broke off, looking faintly ashamed. Connie could tell he'd spoken before thinking.

'Do you – know something?' Connie asked.

'Did you know she her sister died?' Iain said, his eyes almost accusing.

'I – what?' Connie's eyes widened. She felt weakened, shaken by Iain's words as though they had struck a physical blow. 'Cara died?'

'No – another sister, when she was younger, I think,' Iain said, his face falling back into it's now-familiar lines of misery. 'She wouldn't talk to me about it.'

Connie took a moment, then put a hand on Iain's shoulder. This felt uncomfortable for both of them, and she let her arm fall back to her side. 'Come into my study,' she said gently. Her voice was a low buzz beneath the mania of a busy ED. 'We need to talk.'

In Connie's cosy office, Iain shifted awkwardly on the couch. The couch seemed quite old – it sagged in the middle, it's squat legs bowed – but the cracked leather was comforting somehow. It reminded Iain of his couch back home.

Silently, Connie positioned a box of tissues between them with a practised hand. 'We ran a couple of tests on Lily – you must have noticed she is – she is considerably underweight.'

Iain nodded mutely. 'I knew something was wrong,' he muttered, his voice gravelly. 'Ever since her father died. She wouldn't talk to me. She was – she was tired all the time, but she hid it. And she was getting skinny.' He raised his eyes to meet Connie's. They were full of apprehension. 'What's wrong with her?'

Connie swallowed. 'Well, her blood sugar levels are – are frighteningly low. Dangerously, in fact. We'll need to keep her in hospital for a while till we've figured out the root of the problem. We'd have needed to admit her anyway.'

For a moment, there was peace in the little study. 'Sometimes,' Connie continued reluctantly, 'sometimes, when a person has experienced a trauma of some kind – a loss, if they were fired from work, some family issues – they begin to control what they eat, to instil some kind of order in their life.'

'You think that's what's happened to Lily?' Iain's eyes were heart-breakingly vulnerable. Raw.

'I don't know.' Connie shook her head. 'The weight loss, the – the attempt, they could have stemmed from something else, not necessarily her father's death. But that's my best guess.'

Iain's head was in his hands, his shoulders juddering as he took trembling breaths. Wiping an arm across his face, he collected himself.

'And, Iain,' Connie added hesitantly. 'I'm going to look into getting you some counselling as well. Just to help you deal with things.'

'No – no, Mrs Beauchamp, I don't need help,' Iain said. 'I need to be there for Lily.'

'She needs you to be able to support her, and if you have to be supported yourself – ' Connie drew in a sharp breath. 'We have to do what's best for Lily.'

'I know,' Iain murmured. 'I know.'

'I think she should try and reconcile with her mother,' Connie said. 'She'll need as many people around her as possible.'

'You don't understand. When she mentioned her sister – the – the dead one – Kia – she went ballistic. Maybe her father's death has dredged up memories. What if seeing Li Na makes everything worse?' Connie met his eyes again, and saw her own fear reflected there.

'I think Lily needs to make peace with her past, before she can recover,' Connie said slowly. She reached for a tissue herself, fingering the fine, delicate material, picking it apart. 'If she really reacted as violently as regards to her sister's death as you say – well, I think there's more to this then meets the eye. But in my personal opinion – not just my doctor's – I think it would be best for both of them if Lily was to see her mother again.'

0o0o0

'Get out,' Lily said coldly, without looking up from her hands. The nails still had dried blood stained underneath. 'I've already told you, I don't want to see you. I don't want to talk to you.'

'Lily…' her mother whispered, her voice trembling. 'Please. Give me a chance?'

Lily remained in stony silence but made no more protests as Li Na neared the bed and sat down. She reached for Lily's hand, but Lily drew away.

'The doctor – Dr Beauchamp – she said I should talk to you.' Her mother looked nervous.

Lily knew she was being cruel. Her mother had done nothing wrong. But as Li Na's eyes flickered, wet, Lily felt the familiar guilt stir inside her. Thoughts pummelled her brain like bullets. Her father's death…Kia, dying on the floor…All her fault…in one fearful glance, her mother sparked an avalanche of emotion inside Lily. It frightened her.

'About what?' Lily said. Her voice came out harsher than she'd meant.

'Lily, darling…' Li Na stroked the back of Lily's hand and while Lily didn't pull away, she remained rigid. 'Why - Why did you do it?'

'I don't know! I DON'T KNOW!' Something hot, wet, was sliding down her face and into the neck of her baggy hospital gown. The nurse in the corner, who'd been lingering there for almost an hour, took a step forward, and Lily lowered her tone with difficulty. 'A lot of things.' She felt slightly ashamed of her outburst, but her mother had always been blunt.

Her mother interlocked their fingers. Lily looked at their clasped hands like they were repulsive, obscene, but Li Na's bony little hand stayed in Lily's. Lily had to admire her mother's perseverance.

'I guess –' Lily choked out. 'Dad. When he died, I didn't come to see you. I didn't call. You and Cara begged me to come before he died and I ignored you. I – I felt responsible. And then – then Kia – ' the sobs were coming hard, fast now. 'When she died, it was all my fault. I should have stopped her. I shouldn't have let her go to the party. I should've told you she'd been sneaking out.' She could barely breathe through the thick film of tears streaming down her face. Her chest was heaving, but – the knot, that knot of fear and panic and anxiety and guilt – it had snapped. It had gone.

Her mother's arms were round her, and her lips were in Lily's hair, and she was speaking so low, soothing, old Chinese nursery rhymes and comforting words that made Lily want to hold her forever. 'I'm sorry,' she gasped. 'I'm sorry.'

'Listen to me, Lily,' Li Na said, and she held Lily by the shoulder's forcing her to look at her. 'You have nothing – _nothing_ – to be sorry for.'

'But – but –'

Somehow second-guessing what her daughter was going to say, Li Na added 'that night, when Kia died, your father said a lot of things in anger and grief. He said a lot of stupid, wrong things. It was not your fault Kia died. It wasn't anybody's. She made a lot of stupid decisions, but ultimately no one was to blame. Nor your father's death _. No one_.' Li Na's was crying too, and Lily looked at the glittering droplets catching the light in fascination. She'd never seen her mother cry. For the first time, Lily realised she wasn't the only member of her family who'd kept things bottled up.

'All the Chaos are pretty crap at sharing feelings,' Lily said, and Li Na smiled weakly through her tears.

'Not all of us.' Cara said, from behind her mother.

'Cara?' Lily breathed. 'Oh, Wǒ bù gǎn xiāngxìn nǐ zài zhèlǐ!'

'It's – ' Cara stopped and shook her head. 'Oh, never mind. Call me Cara if you want.' She moved over – her brisk, sure pace was exactly as Lily remembered – and embraced her younger sister. She'd barely changed at all. Her hair was no longer dyed the same honey-brown colour, but she'd had her nose pierced and wore a loud, tight-fitting coat.

'Oh my God,' Lily gasped as Cara released her. 'Are you – '

Cara nodded, her eyes filling with tears. 'Yep,' she said throatily. 'Me and Phil are going to – well, I'm pregnant!'

Lily felt herself choking up, but in a good way. She looked at Cara's stomach, the satin of her coat straining, and pictured a little child growing in there. She swallowed, and realised she was smiling – a proper, genuine smile.

'I – I can't believe – I'm really happy for you!' Lily could feel the tears building up again, as she gazed reverently at Cara's midriff. The stylish floral blouse was drawn in above the curve of her stomach, tracing the outline of her growing bump. 'How long?'

'I'm about fourteen weeks,' Cara said, glowing. Li Na was smiling at her daughters, and there were so many unsaid things said in their embrace that the silence of the past months evaporated.

Mars Beauchamp, watching silently from the doorway, found a smile playing at the corner of her lips too. Lily had a long road ahead of her – years of tangled self-blame and self-hate to unravel, a gruelling weight-gain programme, intensive therapy and a lot of time spent in a narrow hospital bed – but in that moment, that small snapshot of innocent happiness, the future and the past didn't seem as scary anymore.

0o0o0

'Lily,' Connie began cautiously. 'We'll be keeping you in a while. We need to run a few tests, and, well – we need to keep an eye on you.'

Lily looked at her fingernails and resisted the urge to pick at her scars.

'You've lost a lot of weight, Lily,' Connie went on, and even though she beat it down, Lily felt a flicker of pride. 'Has – has anything like this ever happened before?'

'Once,' Lily whispered. Something seemed to be blocking her breath on its way to her lungs. 'When I was younger. After Kia died.'

'The weight loss?' Lily nodded.

'And the anxiety. And the cutting. I just – I just felt – '

She broke off. She couldn't finish.

'Lily, I've had a look at your medical history. I understand when you were younger you went through a lot of therapy?'

Lily made a noise of assent. 'It wasn't like there was anyone else who bothered to listen,' she muttered.

'I wondered if you'd feel more comfortable talking to your old therapist – Doctor Jacob Patel, if I'm correct?' Lily seemed tense – rigid – but she wasn't shaking. That had to be a good sign.

'I guess,' she mumbled.

'I had a friend who was quite close to Dr Patel,' Connie said, easing into it. 'He's agreed to do your psychological evaluation, as he's already familiar with your psych.'

Lily was silent.

'Dr Patel?' Connie called him into her office. Lily glanced up from where she was curled up on the couch and they locked gazes.

He'd aged a lot. A lot. His eyes were still wide and expressive but lined around the edges. His hair was still wild but greying. But he still smiled the same way.

'Hiya, Lily,' he said softly. He sounded soberer than he had in their sessions fifteen years ago.

'Hi,' she muttered back. Dr Patel looked pointedly at Connie and she took the hint and turned to leave. 'Good to see you again, Constance,' he said as she left.

Lily snorted. 'You call her Constance?'

His gaze was far too probing for her liking as he replied, 'Why, do you call her differently?'

'Connie, mostly.' That intense stare was making her uncomfortable. 'How have you been, Dr Patel?'

'It's Jacob, please, Lily, we're both adults now,' he replied evenly. 'And we're here to talk about how _you've_ been, Lily. Not me.'

'I'm okay now – Jacob,' Lily answered formally, trying to break the tension by complying to his new rule. But calling him Jacob felt weird.

'No you're not,' he replied. 'You're in a _therapy session_. Just going to let that sink in for a moment.'

Connie's clock was very loud, Lily thought nervously. The sound to be swelling in the silence, as though feeding of the discomfort in the room.

At least, she felt uncomfortable. Dr Patel was twiddling his thumbs and humming.

'I guess I – I want to lose weight again.'

'And are you having urges? To cut?'

Lily looked at the dressings on her wrists and smiled ruefully. 'I guess so.'

'And how are you feeling now?'

There were many words. Her head was a blur of emotions and thoughts and she couldn't tell where reality began and fantasy ended. Every time she looked down, she saw how thick her wrists were, how her thighs seemed vast against the edge of the couch, her legs disproportionately short. Her hands tapped, and her legs shook, and she shifted positions every five seconds as the anxiety kept her heart racing. Yet at the same time she felt empty and hollow and she wanted a long, long break. But she want to go for a long run and burn calories and get the adrenaline out of her system. And then she was worried that she'd revealed too much to her mother, that she was ruining Cara's pregnancy with her stupid, self-absorbed suicide attempt, and the world would be better for everyone without her in it.

But she couldn't say all this, so she went with the word that seemed the least harmful, 'Tired.'

 **So I'm aware parts of this chapter were very sappy, but I reckon Lily deserved a bit of happiness after everything I put her through! I'm so sorry about the slow update – it's going to be like that for a while, I've broken two fingers and am typing like an arthritic person at the moment. Hope you enjoyed the update, I would love a couple of reviews xx**


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